


You Say I Think Too Much, But I Thought You Were Mine, Love

by RueShe



Series: The Roommate Trope Strikes Again! [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi Keiji in a Skirt, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, American AU, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gamer Kozume Kenma, Getting Together, Implied Sexual Content, Kenma steals clothes, Kozume Kenma in a Skirt, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Naked Cuddling, POV Alternating, Platonic Cuddling, Supportive Bokuto Koutarou, Supportive Kuroo Tetsurou, YouTuber Kozume Kenma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:47:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28164993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RueShe/pseuds/RueShe
Summary: Kenma had to shut his eyes for a second to keep his shit together. This might actually be worse than rooming with Bokuto would be, he thought. How was he supposed to get any work done (or sleep, for that matter) if he’d be sharing his space with someone as distracting as Akaashi? He only realized he’d been spacing out when Kuroo forced Akaashi into a bro hug and loudly exclaimed, “So you’re Kenma’s roommate? That’s perfect! Bo, did you know about this?”--Or--It didn’t take long for Kenma to learn that the hardest part of college may be dealing with his roommate, the ever-beautiful Akaashi Keiji. And by “dealing with,” Kenma mostly meant “trying not to fall in love with.” It didn’t work.Akaashi came to college fully intent on focusing on his schooling. He didn’t anticipate how quickly Kenma would grow on him. Like a cute, affectionate, attractive, kind, apple pie-loving, soft, sleepy, cuddly, adorable, leech.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Kozume Kenma, Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: The Roommate Trope Strikes Again! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2112867
Comments: 58
Kudos: 199





	1. To Kenma’s great delight, the dining hall did, in fact, have chicken nuggets

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Of Monsters and Men](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5478908) by [shions_heart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shions_heart/pseuds/shions_heart). 



> Heelllloooo, everybody!
> 
> This is my first multi-chapter fic, but it's already completed so you won't have to worry about whether I'll finish :)  
> I'll update weekly, on fridays.
> 
> Huge thanks to my bestest bud and beta, Ems. (Seriously. Thank u so much. This wouldn't have happened without you <3)
> 
> This is an American au because I don't know shit about Japanese colleges and college life. So just...don't let that bother you!

“Kenmaaaaa, this is your stuff, shouldn’t you be helping me carry it?” Kuroo groaned from behind the boxes of clothes he was carrying. Kenma glanced up from his PSP. Kuroo was huffing from climbing up three flights of stairs with the boxes that held his clothes. Kuroo had only tripped up the stairs once, which Kenma had laughed at a little too hard.

“But it’s working out your arms. Isn’t that something you like to do?” Kenma replied, turning back to his game. To be fair, he was carrying his own backpack of stuff. It just wasn’t as much as Kuroo was carrying, not even close. What was his best friend for, if not helping him move into the dorm freshman year?

“Okay, I think this is it. Does it say 303? I can’t see over these boxes.”

Kenma turned off his game and bent an arm back to tuck it into the side pocket of his backpack. The door in front of them did, indeed, say 303 on it in faded black paint. “Yeah,” he said, “where’d you put the key?”

“Back pocket, left cheek. Left cheek!”

Kenma rolled his eyes at the movie reference and grabbed the from Kuroo’s pocket. The key stuck a little, not much, and then he was swinging the door open to reveal the dorm room.

Tiny.

The room was tiny. How were two people supposed to fit in here? Kenma wasn’t even a big guy, didn’t have a ton of stuff, but he had no idea where it was supposed to fit.

The second thing that caught Kenma’s eye was the person standing in the middle of the room with his hands on his hips.

“Bokuto?” Kenma asked, prompting his head to shoot up and a grin to overtake his features.

“KENMAAA!” Kenma winced.

“Bro? Bro is that you??” Kuroo yelled from behind the boxes he had yet to set down.

_ Oh god, _ Kenma thought,  _ is Bokuto my roommate?  _ He could already feel a headache coming on.  _ No wait, he’s rooming with Kuroo. I forgot. Then who--?  _ His thought train was cut off by Kuroo dropping the boxes--ungently--and flinging himself into Bokuto’s arms as dramatically as possible. Why they still called each other “bro” despite having been boyfriends for over a year had never quite made sense to him, but he supposed it fit their dynamic pretty well. They were still the bro-est of bros, after all.

“Babe, when did you get here, you were supposed to text me! And why’re you in Kenma’s room?” Kuroo released Bokuto and stepped back to look around.

Just then the door opened, and Kenma lost all ability to concentrate on their conversation, because into the room stepped the most beautiful man Kenma had ever seen. He’d met Akaashi before, of course, multiple times even. But he was pretty sure that the last time he saw him, Akaashi’s hair hadn’t been long enough to curl softly behind his ears and his cheekbones hadn’t been  _ quite _ that sharp, and his eyes hadn’t been so pretty, and his mouth hadn’t been quirked into the tiniest (cutest) smile, and his presence hadn’t made Kenma nearly choke on his own spit.

Kenma had to shut his eyes for a second to keep his shit together. _This might actually be worse than rooming with Bokuto_ , he thought. How was he supposed to get any work done (or sleep, for that matter) if he’d be sharing his space with someone as distracting as Akaashi? He only realized he’d been spacing out when Kuroo forced Akaashi into a bro hug and loudly exclaimed, “So you’re Kenma’s roommate? That’s perfect! Bo, did you know about this?”

As Kuroo and Bokuto talked (loudly, of course) about just how perfect this setup was (“Brooooo maybe it’ll be easier to get them to toss for us!” “Dude, bro, think of all the late night shenanigans!”) Kenma watched Akaashi start setting his stuff up. It didn’t look like he had much stuff, but maybe he had another trip to go, like Kenma did. Miraculously, Kenma didn’t trip over his words as he exchanged greetings with Akaashi. He did blush a little, though. Luckily his blushes weren’t usually very bright.

When the room was finally set up, the four men surveyed it together from the doorway. The right side was Kenma’s half. They’d helped him lift his bunk so his desk sat underneath, near the window, and his clothes hung from the bed frame. The sun had set a while ago, and his RGB keyboard cast the room in flickering colors. On the left half of the room, Akaashi had lifted his bunk, too. He just had a laptop, though, so his desk was a lot cleaner than Kenma’s already. Akaashi had more shoes, and darker colors in his closet, but overall the room fit their stuff pretty well.

“Late night bites, guys?” Kuroo asked. He was draped over Bokuto’s back, chin on his shoulder and arms around his waist.

Bokuto quickly spun a 180, and forehead to forehead with his boyfriend, yelled “Yeah! Let’s show them the dining hall!” Akaashi and Kenma exchanged a suffering look, but then Akaashi’s lips lifted in a gentle smile and he turned to their friends and nodded his agreement. After all the moving and organizing, Kenma could admit he was pretty hungry. He hoped they had chicken nuggets. Trailing after Bokuto and Kuroo, who were walking super fast--damn tall people-- Kenma looked around at the University campus. He’d been there before to visit Kuroo, but this was the first time he’d been there as a student. He’d have to pay attention if he didn’t want to get lost, he knew, since he wouldn’t always be able to just follow Kuroo around.

“Are you excited?” came Akaashi’s low voice from his left. Kenma tilted his head up to make eye contact with the taller man. Akaashi had put a sweater on since it was a little cold at night already, and the sleeves were rolled up to expose his forearms.  _ And what nice forearms they are, _ his mind supplied, very helpfully.

“Not really,” he replied, before realizing that sounded kind of like a shut down. “It’s just school, after all.” He didn’t even know why he said that. School was all right honestly, and he was excited about his major, why didn’t he just say that? Talking was hard.

Akaashi hummed like he agreed.

“Are you?” Kenma asked back. Why was it extra difficult to talk like a normal person to Akaashi?

“Yes, I suppose so. I’m excited to be in a new place, and excited for school. Of course, it’s nice to live in the same place as Bokuto-san again, too.” Akaashi’s eyes softened as he gazed at his friend ahead of him, now taking a running leap onto Kuroo’s back and urging him forward like a horse.

“They can be annoying, but they’re pretty great too,” Kenma offered. Kuroo and Bokuto were too much for him sometimes, too loud and too energetic, but he found he didn’t actually mind it. It was nice because neither of them seemed to expect too much from him; when he needed alone time they understood, and until then, they never stopped inviting him to hang out with them. He suddenly felt incredibly lucky to have Kuroo as his best friend.

“Yeah, they are,” Akaashi agreed. “Though I must say, I’m grateful to have you as a roommate rather than either of them. I know you’re quite a bit quieter.” Akaashi smiled over at Kenma, who tried to make his returning smile look less flustered than he was feeling after hearing Akaashi indirectly compliment him. It wasn’t hard to admit he was looking forward to rooming with Akaashi, too, but he kept it to himself.

To Kenma’s great delight, the dining hall did, in fact, have chicken nuggets. They were triangle-shaped, which he thought was weird, but they tasted normal. This late-night dining hall would definitely come in handy for him, since he streamed late into the night and usually slept through breakfast (and sometimes lunch). His class schedule was accommodating; he only had afternoon classes, which had been a strategic play on his part.

“Hey, Aghaashi,” Bokuto said around a mouthful of cheeseburger with his arm around Kuroo.

“Yes, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi replied. He was sitting across from Bokuto and next to Kenma.

“What’s your schedule like? Did you get morning classes like you wanted?”

“Yes, I did,” he replied. Kenma glanced at Akaashi nervously. Would their opposite schedules create conflict? What if Akaashi was a light sleeper and Kenma kept him up at night? Kuroo seemed to have the same thought, based on the worried look he shot Kenma. Kenma resolved to cross that bridge when they came to it. He wasn’t planning on streaming tonight, anyway, so maybe he could avoid that talk for at least a day.

The silence felt strange but in a good way, after Akaashi and Kenma bid their friends goodnight near their dorm and entered their room. Bokuto and Kuroo lived in the neighboring building, which was probably a good thing for Kenma and Akaashi’s peace of mind. This way, they would probably get fewer knocks at midnight when those two had had a few drinks and decided it was a good time to hang out.

The room was dark, just faint light coming from Kenma’s keyboard, slowly cycling through the rainbow. It was almost midnight and while Kenma usually stayed up until three or four in the morning, tonight he was feeling unusually tired.  _ It was probably all the excitement and moving into my room _ , he figured. School didn’t actually start for a few days, giving students time to settle in, so Kenma knew he’d have time to get used to everything before becoming overwhelmed with school work.

“I’m going to shower.” Akaashi’s soft voice came from his side of the room where he was picking up his towel and shower stuff.

“Okay. I’m probably going to sleep,” Kenma replied, for lack of a better response.

“All right. I’ll be quiet when I come back.”

“Don’t worry about it, I probably won’t be asleep yet anyway.”

“Okay,” Akaashi said, before slipping out the door.

Kenma changed into his pajamas (a shirt with a kitten on it, and boxers--the shirt may have originally been Kuroo’s) and got into bed. He considered hanging out on his phone, but decided against it. Alone in the dark, he had more time to think about his situation. He knew being roommates with Akaashi would be good; they got along, Akaashi was quiet and respectful, and the friends they had in common would be convenient, too. It was mostly his own habits that he was nervous about. It’s not like he was particularly loud when he streamed, but he did tend to chat the whole time about what he was doing, or engage in conversation with the viewers.

Contrary to what he expected, he fell asleep before Akaashi came back.

**\---**

Akaashi decided he didn’t much enjoy communal showers. Who knew what sort of disgusting things happened in a bathroom designed to be shared by a whole floor of men. He knew some people thought he was uptight, but he disagreed. Communal showers were gross regardless of his personal hygiene preferences. That being said, the water pressure was surprisingly good and the bathroom was empty this time of night.

When he got back to the room, he was careful to open the door gently so it was silent. He didn’t want to disturb Kenma on the first night of their cohabitation. From what he’d heard, Kenma was pretty low-maintenance, but he wasn’t eager to test that just yet. The shifting lights from the keyboard were gone, so he assumed Kenma had turned them off. Despite saying he’d probably be awake, Akaashi only had to glance at him to know he’d fallen asleep anyway. It was weird seeing a sleeping person at eye height.

Kenma’s hair was splayed out on the pillow. He was tucked on his side in a ball, chin close to his chest.  _ He’s pretty cute when he sleeps _ . The thought rose unbidden, but it was true. Kenma’s face looked unguarded, his breaths slow and even. His phone was only inches from his face. Akaashi had to admit he was looking forward to living with Kenma. They’d known each other a while, after their older best friends had met each other through volleyball in high school, but never spent that much time together. All he really knew about Kenma was that he loved video games, wasn’t fond of vegetables, and was a great setter considering he didn’t seem to have the crazed passion for volleyball most of their highschool teammates had.

Smiling to himself, Akaashi pulled on his own pajamas and climbed into bed.

When he woke up in the morning, the sun was just rising. He’d always been an early riser, rarely needing an alarm to wake up. He didn’t even need coffee before going about his day. He still drank it, mostly because it helped with homework, but never first thing in the morning. He spent an hour reading through his syllabi online before he started to get hungry.

Should he wait for Kenma? Or wake him up?  _ Probably not, _ he mused. He thought he remembered Kuroo saying something about Kenma turning into an angry gremlin if awoken too soon. It was probably late enough that Bokuto would already be up, though. He always went running in the morning.

Mind made up, Akaashi got dressed and hesitated only a little before slipping out the door.

Bokuto was awake when he went to their room and knocked softly. He and Kuroo both were, from the sound of it, and they agreed to get breakfast with him. He decided not to mention Kuroo’s hair (even wilder than normal) and Bokuto’s neck (freshly hickeyed).

“Kenma’s still asleep I assume?” Kuroo asked on their walk to the dining hall.

“Yes. I didn’t know whether to wake him up or not.”

“Definitely not. Only ever wake Kenma up if it’s an emergency. Kid’s a menace in the mornings.”

“Noted.”

Kuroo brought it up again, though, when they were eating. Golden morning light streamed through the big windows and the smell of coffee and eggs permeated the air. “Aw man, Kenma would love this,” he said, stuffing a huge bite of french toast into his mouth. Akaashi and Bokuto exchanged confused glances. “He loves breakfast food,” Kuroo explained, “But hates mornings. So he always misses it.”

“What is his favorite breakfast food? I could bring some back for him,” Akaashi offered. He didn’t think that was outside the realm of normal roommate things, so the look Bokuto shot Kuroo (smug and suggestive) didn’t make a lot of sense to him.

“Pancakes! Or waffles, or french toast, or eggs and omelets and bacon and sausages,” Kuroo answered. “Actually, anything, really.”

He tried not to feel self-conscious about selecting a little bit of everything and hiding it in his bag. Kenma had a meal plan, it wasn’t like he was  _ stealing _ it. Not that the staff would see it that way.

“Oh ho ho, starting off your college career by breaking rules, are we, Akaashi?” Bokuto’s voice was far too loud in the near-empty cafeteria. Akaashi silenced him with the look that he’d perfected in high school. He just wanted to do something nice for his roommate, why were these two being weird about it?  _ Who knows why monkeys do what they do. _

Back at the room, Akaashi opened the door slowly. As Kuroo was confident he would be, Kenma was still asleep. He’d dragged his covers over his face though, probably to block out the sunlight. Perhaps they should look into blackout curtains, if Kenma was planning on sleeping during the daytime a lot. Akaashi put the box of food on Kenma’s desk and found a sharpie to write “Kenma” on it. He contemplated adding a smiley face but the thought made his ears burn at the tips so he took it as a sign and refrained.

He hung around for a few hours before getting bored and deciding to explore around campus before he became inundated with school work. Maybe he could find a little book store or cafe to scope out as a potential future homework spot.

When he got back that afternoon, it was nearing dinner time. He’d found the perfect study spot that was far enough from campus that it might not be completely full of college students all the time but still within walking distance. Then he’d accidentally spent five hours there reading his new book.  _ Oops. _

This time, Kenma was awake. Akaashi had been running through scenarios in his head while he walked up the stairs about whether or not to wake Kenma up if he was still asleep this late in the afternoon. He hadn’t decided by the time he walked in, but it didn’t matter since Kenma was sitting at his desk playing some game and talking quietly into his headset. He turned when Akaashi came in. His expression didn’t change, but he said, “Hang on guys, my roommate just got back.” Before setting his headset down and turning more fully to face Akaashi, who hadn’t made it very far into the room. Kenma’s face was unreadable.

“Did you sleep well?” Akaashi asked. Kenma’s eyes narrowed as if he wasn’t sure whether he was being made fun of or not. Akaashi wondered if it was a dumb question, since Kenma had evidently been awake for a while now.

He must have decided the question was genuine, because he responded, “Yeah. You’re really quiet.” Which made Akaashi feel relieved. He’d been as quiet as he could, but you never know.

“Good,” he laughed softly, “I’m not usually loud anyway.”

Kenma just hummed in reply. Then he turned back to Akaashi and cupped his hands over his cheeks. Kenma suddenly inhaled and cupped his palms against his cheeks, eyes widening. “Thank you for the food. Did Kuroo tell you to bring it back?”

Akaashi felt his cheeks warm up and willed them to stay their usual color. “He said you loved breakfast food but usually slept through it.”

Kenma’s eyes shone with gratitude and Akaashi realized it was the most expressive he’d ever seen Kenma be.  _ Maybe he just really loves food. _

“The boys want to go to dinner but I didn’t know when you’d be back.” Kenma turned back to his computer and typed quickly for a few moments before turning back around with a questioning slant to his eyebrow.

“Ah, I was just exploring. Dinner together sounds nice,” Akaashi replied. He belatedly realized he hadn’t put his stuff down and hastened to do so.

After that, Kenma went back to his game and Akaashi listened to his low chatter until Bokuto nearly ripped their door off its hinges when he tried to enter while it was locked.

Dinner was much the same as last time, and Akaashi wondered if it would stay this way the whole semester. Bokuto was practically in Kuroo’s lap trying to snag back the cake ball that Kuroo had stolen and was currently holding slightly out of reach. Kenma was eating apple pie, eyes closed in bliss (or to black out the view in front of him, Akaashi couldn’t tell). He steadfastly ignored Kuroo’s insistence that apple pie wasn’t enough for dinner. Akaashi settled back into his chair, relaxing. Yeah, he wouldn’t mind this routine one bit.

Back at their room, Kenma stayed by the door and fiddled with his hands. It was obvious he wanted to say something, so Akaashi waited. When Kenma didn’t start speaking, just moved to his chair and kept fiddling, Akaashi decided to give him a nudge.

“Are you all right?” He asked. Simple, direct. It usually worked with Bokuto.

Kenma’s hands stilled. He looked to the side, then met Akaashi’s gaze. Akaashi tried to appear open and comforting, but he wasn’t sure it came across.

“Are you a light sleeper?” Kenma asked, and that wasn’t at all what Akaashi was expecting. Then again, it was hard to tell what Kenma was feeling at any given moment.

“Somewhat,” he replied, and the inflection made it sound like a question. “Why do you ask?”

“I play video games a lot,” he started, as if it wasn’t the most obvious thing about him right behind his bleached hair (which was mostly grown out, now). “But I stream too. Usually at night.”

“Are you loud?” Akaashi asked. He was beginning to understand Kenma’s worry.

“Not really,” he replied. “I just talk.”

Akaashi thought it was quite polite of him to bring it up before it became a problem. If it had been someone else, someone he didn’t already know and like, his response may have been different. But as it was, “That will be fine, I think. I have headphones if I need them. How about I let you know if you are disrupting my sleep. Does that work?”

His shoulders dropped slightly and he let out a quiet sigh. Kenma’s look of relief made Akaashi realize just how stressed he must have been about it. Kenma wasn’t particularly effusive with his words, and he could be hard to read. Not impossible, though, as Akaashi was beginning to learn.

That night as Akaashi was going to sleep, he placed his headphones near his pillow in case he needed them. So far, Kenma had been pretty quiet. As Akaashi drifted off to sleep, Kenma’s low voice droned on in the background and muted colors flickered across his closed eyelids. Akaashi actually found it all quite soothing, as it lulled him to sleep. He had pleasant dreams that he forgot upon waking.


	2. Akaashi tried not to swallow his tongue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, I'm getting a huge surgery tomorrow and I know I said Friday's but let's just forget that because a) I'll be too high to post on friday, probably b) I was thinking about switching to bi-weekly, anyway :p
> 
> Thanks again, Ems :)

Kenma liked his schedule. He woke up every day around 11 with sunlight streaming through the windows most days. Since that first day, Akaashi had made a habit of bringing him breakfast from the dining hall. He’d sit in bed and eat the leftovers and not bother hiding the smile that made it harder to eat.

His first class was at noon, and he usually spent it texting Kuroo or Bokuto instead of paying attention. After classes, the four of them would have dinner together--Kuroo and Bokuto always sat on one side, Akaashi and Kenma on the other. Then Kenma and Akaashi would go back to the room and do homework together.

Kenma was happy; his classes were easy, his friends were fun, his video game hobby was ever-stimulating, and the weather was just entering sweater season. For all the good in his life, Kenma had to admit his favorite part of the day was when he and Akaashi hung out after dinner. They had two classes together, which made collaborating on homework easy.

Tonight, for instance, they sat on the floor of their room--knees almost touching--and completed worksheets together. Kenma had soft Lo-Fi playing from his computer, and the only light came from Akaashi’s desk lamp that they stuck next to them on the floor.

  
  


When they were doing nothing in the room and had finished their homework, the two had taken to playing games together. Sometimes this meant grabbing a second controller for Akaashi and playing Smash Bros on Kenma’s computer. Mostly, however, it meant picking one of their beds to lie side by side on. They’d either take turns on the PSP, switching when one of them died, or Akaashi would watch Kenma play.

Kenma was initially surprised that Akaashi had any interest in his games, let alone games  _ together _ , but it made an odd sort of sense considering Akaashi seemed more comfortable observing than participating in any given activity. He made a good gaming buddy, Kenma found. He was actually quite good at it, and seemed to enjoy watching Kenma when it was his turn.

Tonight, they were playing on Kenma’s bed. Kenma had been playing for a while--he rarely died--and he’d almost forgotten Akaashi was lying mere inches from him until he felt a weight settle on his back. He paused the game, before he could accidentally kill himself in his surprise, and craned his neck around.

Akaashi had curled up on his side and was using Kenma’s back as a pillow.  _ It must be later than I thought, if Akaashi’s passing out on me _ . He knew Akaashi went to sleep far earlier than he did. Usually, his friend mumbled something about going to bed and slipped off to put pajamas on. This time, however, he must have been too tired to do so. That, or he was really looking forward to his next turn and didn’t want to miss it by going to sleep.

Kenma was glad that Akaashi felt comfortable enough with him to engage in this weird pseudo-cuddle. Kenma was a fairly physical person, despite being introverted. He and Kuroo used to cuddle a lot growing up and he’d found himself wanting to reach out to Akaashi more and more--he just wasn’t sure how Akaashi would take it.

Kenma was pulled from his thoughts by Akaashi making a soft sleepy noise and shifting closer, slipping an arm over Kenma and snuggling closer. It was very possibly the cutest thing Kenma had ever seen. He went back to his game and kept half an ear focused on Akaashi’s quiet breaths that sometimes morphed into little snores.

The contact was comforting. Kenma could feel his shoulders relaxing and his mind begin to calm down. He saved the game and tucked the PSP under his pillow, turning on his side--gently, so Akaashi’s head didn’t fall to the bed too hard--so he could get more comfortable.  _ Is it weird to leave him here and fall asleep? _ He wondered.

Figuring a little bed-sharing between roommates wasn’t that weird, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

He woke up when Akaashi sat up quickly with a surprised sound. They’d gotten closer again while they slept; Kenma could feel cool air on his side where Akaashi had been pressed up against him. Rubbing a hand across his eyes, he looked up at Akaashi. The room was very dark, but he could still make out Akaashi’s bewildered expression before he slowly wiped some drool from his mouth.

“I am so sorry,” Akaashi said, trying to bow while still sitting on Kenma’s bed. He had to duck his head to avoid knocking into the ceiling, since their beds were lofted.

Kenma didn’t want to make Akaashi’s embarrassment worse (or accidentally tell him he’d enjoyed their cuddling quite a bit) so he just flapped a hand around, trying to communicate “don’t worry about it” without any words. It seemed to work, since Akaashi lost the pinched expression on his face.

Akaashi slipped out of the bed and stumbled over to his side of the room. The sun wasn’t even beginning to rise yet, but Kenma felt it was early morning rather than late night already. He tried not to focus on how empty his bed felt now that Akaashi was gone, and he was asleep again before Akaashi had finished settling into his own bed.

A couple nights later, Kenma’s eyes stared blankly at his worksheet, thinking about the stream he was going to do that night. Probably Minecraft again; he had a plan of which portrait he was going to make out of blocks next. Hopefully his viewers would find it as funny as he did.

“Kozume-san,” Akaashi said, with the tone of someone who had said it twice already without Kenma noticing.  _ I’ve been spacing out a lot, recently. Akaashi’s going to think I’m an airhead. _

“Kenma,” Kenma replied. Akaashi rolled his eyes, in a surprisingly immature display of exasperation. They’d had the conversation multiple times already about Akaashi’s preference for appropriate titles. Kenma was sure he’d convince Akaashi sooner or later.  _ Hopefully sooner _ , his mind supplied.

“Kenma,” Akaashi relented. Kenma just hummed in response, but he pulled his eyes up from his worksheet to show he was listening.  _ Gods, his eyes are so pretty. _ They were dark green, almost black in the low light, and serene. Kenma was starting to realize that Akaashi wasn’t nearly as stiff as he came across sometimes. Akaashi was leaning back on his hands, collar bones showing through the wide neck of his sweater. Kenma swallowed.

“Do you want to take a break?” Akaashi asked, “Maybe they will have apple pie at late night bites again.”

Kenma nodded. Apple pie was a good incentive. His joints ached as he unfolded his legs and he realized he probably should have taken a break sooner to stretch. It was easy to forget time, though, here on the floor with Akaashi.

Akaashi stood up first, offering Kenma his hand. He took it, marveling at how soft Akaashi’s fingers were now that he didn’t play volleyball regularly. He wondered what those hands would feel like cupping his face, or around his waist, or tugging his hair.  _ Not the time, Kenma. _

The other weird thing, other than actually enjoying his homework due to his company, was the way he noticed he’d been playing fewer video games lately. That’s not to say he wasn’t playing; he certainly was. He streamed almost every night, and he still kept his PSP with him most of the time. The difference was that when he was with Akaashi, he didn’t  _ want _ to ignore him in favor of gaming. Kenma wasn’t quite sure how he felt about this new feeling, honestly.

It was sometimes hard to tell, what with Akaashi’s polite way of speaking, but Kenma suspected he enjoyed their nights together almost as much as Kenma did.

It was just the two of them in the dining hall this time, and Akaashi was sitting across from him. They usually ate side by side since their friends sat next to (or on top of) each other on the other side--this meant that tonight, Kenma could feel Akaashi watching him eat. It sort of stressed him out, but mostly it just made him hyper-aware of his own actions. Was it weird to pull pieces off his pie and eat them separately? Was he closing his mouth when he chewed?

For all that he’d become comfortable in Akaashi’s presence, the food thing was surprisingly uncomfortable. To distract himself, he twitched his feet around under the table. At least, he tried, but then his foot knocked into Akaashi’s and the man looked at him with surprise and then Kenma blushed even harder.  _ What was it about this man that made him blush so easily? _

Their feet were still touching under the table.

After that night, Kenma became more aware of how he and Akaashi interacted. Akaashi was always polite, and caring--he’d finally started calling him “Kenma,” like he’d asked--as time went on, Kenma thought Akaashi seemed to grow more comfortable with him, but it was hard to tell. After all, Akaashi was consistently nice to everyone he spoke to.

Kenma started to wonder if it was possible for anyone to spend this much time with Akaashi and  _ not _ fall a little bit in love with him. The man was gorgeous, kind, intelligent, quiet, and the best roommate he could have asked for.

He also started to learn more about Akaashi, the longer they lived together. Akaashi loved to read; sometimes Kenma would wake up early (before falling asleep again) to the view of Akaashi with a hand behind his head, reading in bed by the morning light.

Akaashi had the cutest laugh. Kenma had assumed it would be quiet, like the rest of him, but if something funny enough happened (usually, he laughed at Bokuto’s expense) his laugh would turn into the brightest giggle Kenma had ever heard.

Akaashi sometimes couldn’t sleep. On those nights, Kenma would set his headset down and make sure he wasn’t the reason for Akaashi’s insomnia. Akaashi always said it wasn’t him, but he still felt somewhat guilty. It made Kenma want to crawl into Akaashi’s bed and wrap him up tight until he fell asleep.

One night like this Akaashi was restless, turning on his light to read, then turning it off, then back on thirty minutes later. Kenma was streaming, per usual. He was in the middle of explaining his plan to make a huge rendition of Shinzo Abe’s face in Minecraft that could only be seen super zoomed out, when he registered Akaashi leaving the room. It was past midnight. Kenma fought down concern, knowing it wasn’t really his business what his roommate did.

It wasn’t until Akaashi came back that Kenma realized that he’d gone to shower. He turned around and was met with Akaashi’s bare skin, wrapped only in a towel around his waist. He looked tired. He lifted a hand to swipe his wet hair back from his forehead and Kenma about had an aneurism.

Akaashi was ripped. Not like Bokuto and Kuroo were, with their bulging muscles from volleyball and workouts, but just as attractive. He was leaner, enough so that Kenma hoped he paid as much attention to his own diet as he did Kenma’s. Water slid down his clavicle, between his pecs, and trailed over his abs. The droplet finally disappears into the top of the towel, which Kenma finds himself suddenly resenting for covering any part of Akaashi’s naked body.

Kenma whipped back around to face his monitor and tried not to groan as the chat exploded with people commenting on Akaashi, yes, but mostly on how incredibly bright Kenma’s face had turned. “Sh-shut up shut up shut up,” he said quickly, making sure not to turn back around.

Akaashi usually just changed in the bathroom.  _ Maybe he’s so tired he forgot to bring a change of clothes? _ It didn’t matter, either way. The damage was done and Kenma’s body was having trouble splitting the blood between his bright red cheeks and his groin. His cheeks were losing the fight.

He’d have to remember to tell Akaashi that his camera showed the background of the room as well.

  
  


**\---**

Something was wrong with Kenma and Akaashi couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out what it was. They were sitting at dinner with Bokuto and Kuroo after a particularly trying day of classes. Akaashi hadn’t seen Kenma all day, but he knew something was up.

Kenma sat next to him, face screwed up in an expression Akaashi couldn’t place. He felt like icy waves were emanating from him. It was less of an active behavior Kenma was doing and more of an entire vibe he was putting off.

Bokuto and Kuroo didn’t seem preoccupied about it; Bokuto was cackling almost as loud as Kuroo was, from Bokuto’s fingers digging into his sides and tickling him whenever he tried to take a bite. It was sickening, but also pretty adorable.

Occasionally Kuroo would send a concerned glance over at his best friend, but it seemed they’d decided it wasn’t worth going into at the moment. That, or they were expecting Akaashi to be the one to bring it up. And he did.

“Is everything all right, Kenma?” He asked, feeling uncertain of his words in a way he hadn’t since the semester first started. He saw Kuroo look at them out of the corner of his eye, which cemented his suspicion that Kuroo was very much paying attention but would make no move to help.

Kenma’s eyes shift over to him and Akaashi finally realized what the squinty grimace was: Anger. It was the first time he’d seen Kenma angry and he suddenly felt worried about what Kenma would say. Was it about him? Had he done something and forgotten? No, he was sure he’d remember doing something to Kenma.

“I’m better than he is.” Was all Kenma said back.  _ Umm, okay? _

“Excuse me?” Akaashi replied. This was going to be a harder conversation than he thought, if Kenma stuck to his usual reticence.

“I’m a better player than he is, he shouldn’t have beaten me,” Kenma elaborated, and  _ Ah, I think I know what this is about. _

“Is this about the game tournament you were excited for yesterday?” Akaashi realized he forgot to text Kenma to ask how it went, and now he’s privately thankful he didn’t have to deal with this over text. As uncomfortable as social situations could be, he trusted his in-person skills more than his digital ones; it was too easy to be misunderstood through texts.

Kenma mumbled his response, carefully--and violently--ripping his food apart on his plate. His face had gone all scowly again, and if Kenma weren’t so obviously upset Akaashi might have found it endearing.

Akaashi waited only a moment before Kenma huffed and set his food down. “He was literally in the same fucking bush like four times that game. He should have known I’d expect it and picked another one, so I  _ should have been safe _ and I know not to facecheck bushes but he  _ wasn’t supposed to be there again _ and I just--” his little rant trailed off into a growl and he started destroying his food again.

It took a second for Akaashi to unpack. The vehemence behind Kenma’s words shocked him, and  _ Is this the first time I’ve heard him swear? _ And Akaashi registered that this was probably the most Kenma had ever said in one breath. Still, seeing him so visibly bothered by something unnerved Akaashi. He wanted to help.

He always wanted to help, actually, but Kenma didn’t seem to require much care other than the food he brought him and their shared homework/game time.

Reaching in front of Kenma, he grabbed his plate--assuming he wasn’t going to finish the food he’d disemboweled--and stacked it on top of his to take to the dish drop. When he got back, Kenma was still stewing in his chair.

Barely hesitating, Akaashi reached forward to grip Kenma’s sleeve and pull him gently from his seat. Kenma stood up easily, already wandering away from the table.

“Wh--where are you guys going?!” Bokuto cried, finally seeming to notice the tense atmosphere.

“Back to our room. We’ll see you tomorrow, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi replied. “ _ We?” _ Kuroo mouthed at Akaashi, after Kenma had turned to leave. Akaashi glared at him, just a little.

Back at the room, Akaashi felt lost again. Sure, he and Kenma were getting closer, and they spent most of their time together, but this was uncharted territory. He tried to think of what he would want if he were upset.  _ But you are different people, it may not be the same, _ his brain helpfully reminded him.

The one thing he knew was that Kenma, as they got closer, had begun getting more and more tactile. Not that Akaashi minded, far from it, he just was not usually the one to initiate it.

“Would a hug help?” he asked, trying not to sound awkward about it. They had not really spoken about their increasing physicality, after all.

Kenma didn’t answer with words. Rather, he turned a quick 180 from where he’d been slumping his way to his desk chair and came at Akaashi with surprising speed. The impact was so hard it drove an “oomph” out of Akaashi, and then Kenma’s arms were wrapping around Akaashi’s waist.

Kenma’s head reached just under Akaashi’s chin, and his body was solid and warm where they touched. Akaashi relaxed into the hug, wrapping his arms around Kenma in turn. His hair smelled good. They kept holding on to each other as Kenma went from vibrating with frustrated energy, to holding a breath, then finally relaxing. When he did, the hug became softer and turned more comforting than the tight hold they’d had before. Akaashi had no trouble admitting how nice it really was.

Kenma mumbled something into Akaashi’s chest that he had no way of hearing completely, let alone interpreting. He exhaled a gentle laugh. “What was that?” He asked. He tried to pull back from the hug to understand better, but Kenma wasn’t letting go.  _ That is impossibly cute _ .

“I said,” Kenma reiterated, through what sounded like clenched teeth, “Can we hang out on my bed.” And a couple seconds later he got quieter again, and added, “Please.”

“Of course,” Akaashi replied. He wasn’t sure why Kenma was even asking; they spent a lot of their time together on each other’s beds these days, without really talking about it.  _ Perhaps he’s feeling self-conscious because of his game? _

Kenma finally unwound his arms from around Akaashi and pushed him impatiently towards the bed. Akaashi smiled at his insistence. Kenma climbed up after him, but rather than lying down, he kept pushing Akaashi until Akaashi’s back was against the wall at the head of the bed, legs stretched out before him.

Akaashi was a little confused until Kenma dug under his pillow for the PSP (it was almost shared at this point, honestly). Akaashi expected Kenma to sit next to him, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned around and sat directly between Akaashi’s thighs, facing away, and leaned back into the taller man’s chest.  _ Oh,  _ his brain tried to think, under the new pressure of his rabbiting heart and flushed face,  _ This is why he felt he needed to ask _ .

It was different, certainly. But it was different in a good way, Akaashi decided, lifting his hands to card softly through Kenma’s hair. Kenma had clearly been waiting for a sign that Akaashi was okay with the new situation, because he released a breath and leaned back more heavily into Akaashi and powered up the PSP.

  
  


Akaashi did not consider himself to be a particularly physical person. Sure, he enjoyed hugs as much as the next guy, and the rough affection his teammates engaged in always made him feel included (even if he would never admit it out loud). But sitting there in the mostly-dark room, with Kenma pressed against his chest between his legs, he began to wonder if it was just that he’d never found someone he wanted to be that physical with.

Because here and now, he couldn’t see himself ever wanting to extricate himself from his roommate. He hid his smile in Kenma’s hair before shifting to tuck his chin over Kenma’s shoulder and watch the screen.

Watching other people play games could only be entertaining for so long, however, and eventually Akaashi got bored and started playing with Kenma’s hair. The strands were silky soft. He remembered high school, when Kenma’s hair was mostly blonde. Now, it was mostly dark again; it faded to yellow in the lower half; Akaashi thought it suited him. Then again, Akaashi figured anything Kenma wore would look good on him.

His fingers passed gently through Kenma’s hair, teasing out small tangles until it ran smoothly through his hands. He started on the top left, twisting strands together in a way that felt familiar but long unpracticed. He undid his first attempt halfway through, pulling the braid out and restarting.

The second time around went better, as his hands remembered the movements. When he reached the back of Kenma’s head, he ran his hand lightly down Kenma’s arm to his wrist, where he gently pulled at the hair tie in request. Kenma snapped it off and passed it back to him.

Then he moved to the right side, repeating the waterfall braid until it met the other in the back. Holding the hair tie between his teeth so he could free up his hands, he combined the two and used the tie to secure them.

He’d learned all sorts of hair styles in middle school, when his friends (who were mostly girls) taught him their ways, but it had been a very long time since he’d done any of them. It looked pretty good, he thought. The braid pulled some of the hair back from Kenma’s face, making him look a little more delicate.  _ Ethereal _ , his mind corrected.

It was true; Kenma’s keyboard filled the room with soft hues. Sometimes Akaashi forgot how attractive Kenma was, the way people forget to pay attention to things they see every day. But right now, Kenma’s eyes reflected the light from his game and his skin turned from indigo, to green, to yellow, along with the rest of the room and Akaashi couldn’t breathe for a moment.

As if he could hear Akaashi’s internal musings, Kenma turned quickly to smile at Akaashi, no trace of the former anger in his features. His face scrunched up in joy, his eyes turning into little arcs, and Akaashi couldn’t help but smile back.

“Does it look good?” Kenma asked, and Akaashi almost swallowed his tongue.  _ Does he know what I’m thinking? _ He wondered before catching up and realizing Kenma was talking about his hair.  _ Focus, Keiji. _

“Yeah, it does.”

Seeming satisfied, he turned back to his game and resettled himself. Akaashi had to consciously prevent his blood from redirecting to his crotch when he realized just how close Kenma was. He pressed his lips silently to Kenma’s hair.

Akaashi looped his arms around Kenma’s waist and rested his head against the back of Kenma’s shoulder. He didn’t realize he’d drifted off until he felt Kenma pulling away and made an embarrassing sound of protest before waking up fully and realizing what he’d done. Kenma just looked amused, and Akaashi bolted off the bed and gathered his pajamas before he had the chance to do something stupid like kiss Kenma’s smile off his face.

  
  


A couple days after that night, and Akaashi still hadn’t been able to push the feeling of Kenma against him from his mind. He would be sitting in Statistics and suddenly flash back to the moment he kissed Kenma’s hair and blush a little. Walking to the dining hall with his friends, he’d recall the force with which Kenma had hugged him that night. He had even caught himself thinking about other hairstyles he’d learned when he was young and whether Kenma would let him try them out.

Akaashi was absentmindedly wondering whose hand would be in front and whose behind if they ever held hands, on the way home from class, but the sight that greeted him when he opened the door to his room made his brain screech to a halt. A thoughtless Akaashi was a rare one, but that’s how he found himself now.

Kenma was sitting at his desk, playing games. This was normal. What was certainly not normal was the fact that from the looks of it, Kenma was only wearing a sweatshirt. Akaashi peered closer. It wasn’t even  _ Kenma’s sweatshirt _ , it was Akaashi’s.

Akaashi knew it was his--it had “Fukurodani” across the back in block letters. It was also huge on Kenma, coming down to mid-thigh. Even if Akaashi hadn’t already been having non-platonic thoughts about Kenma before, he certainly would be now.

Kenma hadn’t noticed him, it seemed; Akaashi knew first-hand how good his noise canceling headphones were, so it wasn’t surprising that Kenma had not heard him come in. Akaashi only had a moment to consider bolting before Kenma was turning back to look at him.

He pulled the headphones off his head with a quiet “Be right back, guys,” and smiled up at where Akaashi was still stuck by the door.  _ Move your feet. Do something, don’t just stand here like a-- _ “My clothes are all in the wash,” Kenma said, as if that adequately explained the situation.

He realized he’d been just standing there not saying anything for too long when Kenma started to get up and come towards him.  _ Okay, you really have to say something. Anything. Anything at all _ . But he couldn’t make his mouth move because when Kenma stood up he got to see in full glory the vision that was Kenma in an oversized sweatshirt with no pants. It wasn’t a visage he’d likely forget anytime soon, if ever.

“Is that okay? I tried to find one you don’t wear a lot,” Kenma said, still coming closer. He added, “And I’m wearing shorts,” as an afterthought. He even pulled up the hem to show Akaashi the little running shorts he had on, but Akaashi was still having trouble not swallowing his tongue and the extra flash of thigh really wasn’t helping.

“That’s fine, Kenma.” Did he sound normal? Could Kenma tell? Akaashi knew he didn’t tend to blush bright red, even if the heat in his cheeks begged to differ. Hopefully Kenma wouldn’t be able to tell.

Looking dubious, Kenma crossed his arm across his body to point back at his computer, where Akaashi could see lines of chat scrolling by on the right of his Minecraft stream. Akaashi just nodded and waved his hand, and Kenma went back to his game.  _ That could have been so much worse. _

The other thing Akaashi found weird about the whole situation, other than the obvious, was that he could very clearly see a few shirts hanging from Kenma’s bed in their usual place.  _ He must have been cold _ .

After that, the clothes borrowing got worse.  _ Or better _ . Either way, it wasn’t unusual for Akaashi to come home and find Kenma camped out in one of Akaashi’s shirts. Kenma never asked, but it didn’t take long for Akaashi to realize he didn’t mind it one bit.

Especially the day he came back from the book store to find Kenma wearing a skirt.  _ A skirt _ . Akaashi had honestly forgotten he had it. It had been a gift from Bokuto(????) that Akaashi was surprised to learn he loved. He’d worn it before, of course, but didn’t feel comfortable doing so around campus.

Seeing Kenma in it, though. That was eye-opening. If he looked half as good in it as Kenma did, Akaashi could consider rethinking his reluctance to wear it in public. Akaashi not-so-subtly left out the two other skirts he owned, in case Kenma wanted to try those, as well. He didn’t even try to convince himself that it was a selfless act.

At this rate, Akaashi wasn’t going to have enough blood in his brain at any given moment to keep doing homework in his room.

Asking Kuroo about it was (as he should have expected) completely fruitless. At first, Kuroo had been dismissive. “Ah, yeah, he does that. Haven’t you heard of gremlins stealing people’s clothes? I swear he adopted half my wardrobe in high school. Don’t let it bother you, bro.”

Then, something seemed to register in Kuroo’s face since he turned back from where he’d been rubbing his head into Bokuto’s back while he worked on the homework for a class he was almost failing, and gave Akaashi the most disconcerting leer he’d ever had the misfortune of receiving.

“Unless,” he began, eyebrows beginning to wiggle, “You liiiiike it,” he finished. Kuroo had said it like a joke, but when Akaashi failed to respond and instead glued his eyes to the floor--was that some crumbs on Kuroo’s carpet? Hmm, better look closer,-- he cackled so loud that Akaashi was scared they’d get a noise complaint.

“I do not,” he said. He wasn’t sure how to refute it without further incriminating himself especially considering the fact that Kuroo was  _ right _ .

So, going to Kuroo had been a mistake. He made a mental note to never ask for Kuroo’s help ever again.


	3. Kenma hesitated to call it cuddling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone :):) got this up a lil early <3
> 
> Happy holidays/whatever/if-ever you celebrate!

Kenma could feel Akaashi’s walls coming down. It was kind of slow going, sure, but he was definitely making progress. The most notable achievement, Kenma thinks, was the way Akaashi had started seeking out contact rather than just accepting Kenma’s. The hair braiding incident and the sweatshirt debacle were also victories, though.

  
  


Kenma wriggled deeper in his blankets, feeling warm and fuzzy about how well he and Akaashi were getting along.  _ He really is the ideal roommate.  _ Sure, his viewers were making fun of him constantly for his behavior around Akaashi, but that was a small price to pay for such a good thing they had going.

Ever since that first night when Akaashi braided his hair, they’d been doing it a lot more. Kenma hesitated to call it cuddling, since they always did it while they did other stuff, but it definitely...felt like cuddling.

Kenma was starting to look forward to their evenings and the way Akaashi would slump onto him and grumble into his stomach about aggravating classes, or the way Akaashi would ruffle Kenma’s hair when Kenma was being particularly pouty or obstinate.

It really was convenient to have broken down some of those barriers, Kenma thought, as he pitched face-first into Akaashi one night at dinner. He’d stayed up too late gaming and had struggled not to fall asleep through all his classes. Now, Bokuto and Kuroo were being their obnoxious selves across to them, Akaashi was humming politely along with the story Bokuto was telling, and Kenma just wanted to close his eyes.

So he did; he carefully set his utensils down, pulled his sweatshirt hood over his head, and nosedived into Akaashi’s armpit. Rather than stiffen up and stutter, which he would have done a few months ago, Akaashi just wrapped his arm around Kenma’s shoulder and let him spend the rest of the meal dozing on Akaashi.

This new level of comfort they had came in really handy when Kenma was in a bad mood. Usually, it was him that needed the touch. Akaashi was consistently put-together; he turned in his assignments on time, was intelligent and composed, and Kenma had never seen him lose his cool over anything.

That’s why, when Akaashi was unusually twitchy and spacey all day, Kenma knew something was up. Akaashi’s eyebrows were furrowed (adorably) and had been that way since Kenma had come home from class in the afternoon. Sometimes Akaashi spent time at the library or the book store while Kenma was in class, but today when Kenma returned home it was to the sight of a frumpy Akaashi sitting by his desk.

At first Kenma mostly ignored it. He figured Akaashi would talk if he wished to talk, or ask Kenma if he needed something. As the hours ticked by, though, Kenma started to doubt that assumption.  _ Maybe I’ll have to reach out, after all _ . Akaashi was  _ almost  _ normal. To a newcomer, Akaashi probably didn’t seem any different than normal.

But Kenma could tell something was up. Akaashi spoke less, and seemed to lose focus easily, which was unusual. There was also the fact that his eyebrows were drawn and his mouth was set in a tight slant. While they often did homework on the floor, today they were doing work for the classes they didn’t share; so they each sat at their own desks, feeling farther apart than they really were.

After over an hour of silence from the other side of the room, Kenma had had enough. He turned around in his seat. Akaashi’s chair was turned slightly away from the desk, and Akaashi was sitting with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He wasn’t screaming or anything, but this gesture was still weirdly emotionally charged for someone like Akaashi who kept a tight handle on his emotions.

Hoping he was making a good decision, Kenma stood up from his chair and turned his monitor off. Akaashi didn’t notice. Kenma walked slowly until he was standing right in front of Akaashi’s chair. He reached out and took Akaashi’s hands in his own, pulling them away from where they’d been covering Akaashi’s face.

Akaashi looked startled, but not wary, as he straightened up so he was no longer hunched over. Growing bolder, Kenma--still holding Akaashi’s hands--stepped into Akaashi’s space. First he moved his left leg, then his right, until he was straddling Akaashi’s lap. He put Akaashi’s arms around his back and used his own arms to pull Akaashi closer until he was basically koala-hugging Akaashi’s whole torso.

It only took Akaashi longer than usual to relax into it, but right before Kenma started to worry, he wrapped his arms tighter around Kenma and tucked his face into Kenma’s shoulder. Akaashi breathed out a huge sigh, that sounded a little ragged around the edges.

“We can talk about it, if you want,” Kenma offered. Words didn’t always come easily, and usually he didn’t mind, but he wondered if simple physical comfort would be enough for Akaashi, the way it was for him.

“It’s just that test I told you I was worried about. I did worse than I hoped. There isn’t much to talk about.” Akaashi’s voice was muffled from where it was still buried in Kenma’s neck, but Kenma heard him just fine. Akaashi’s breath tickled his collarbone.

After Kenma didn’t reply, Akaashi spoke again. “I’ll feel better tomorrow,” he said, almost apologetically, and twitched as if he were about to pull away.

Kenma didn’t want Akaashi to regret being vulnerable with him, or to apologize for his feelings. He didn’t feel good at comforting people, but there was no way he was going to let Akaashi worry about showing his emotions, even if Kenma’s attempts were clumsy. It would be worth it. He hugged Akaashi tighter, preventing him from pulling away.

“Did it hurt your grade?” He asked.  _ That’s a good place to start, I think _ .

Akaashi shook his head. Kenma felt Akaashi’s next breath, and it was a little unsteady.

“So you’re just…” Kenma searched for the word, but he didn’t want to speak for Akaashi, either.  _ Sad? Disappointed? _ It was weird that Kenma was the one talking, and Akaashi the one struggling. Usually, it was the other way around. Kenma didn’t mind, though, as long as he could support Akaashi.

“Frustrated,” Akaashi supplied. “With myself.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Kenma asked, softly. The way they could feel each other’s voices through their touching chests was distracting and made Kenma feel like they were in a little pocket, somewhere outside the normal space-time continuum.

“This is good,” Akaashi mumbled, sinking back into the hug.

Eventually, they moved onto Akaashi’s bed. “Do you want to play games?” Kenma asked, but Akaashi just shook his head and burrowed closer. His head was pillowed on Kenma’s chest, and Kenma was running his fingers softly through Akaashi’s hair.

They lay there for a while, just breathing softly and being together. Occasionally one would have a thought to share, and they’d talk for a moment, but mostly it was quiet. Eventually they got sleepy, and Kenma moved to his own bunk. He had dreams about holding Akaashi all night.

True to his word, Akaashi was seemingly better the next day. As usual, Akaashi was long gone by the time Kenma woke up, but he’d brought breakfast back still. It wasn’t until dinner that they saw each other again, and while Kenma was a little nervous at first--for reasons he couldn’t explain--his anxiety vanished when Akaashi greeted him with a smile from the table. His face was back to its usual beauty, without that troublesome eyebrow furrow.

Kenma was happy things were back to normal.

  
  


A couple nights later, Kenma was streaming long after Akaashi had gotten ready for bed and turned the lights out. It was normal for Kenma to occasionally turn around and check on his roommate. Usually, a dark room greeted him. This time, however, every time he turned around, he saw that Akaashi was still awake. The first couple times, he only noticed because Akaashi wasn in a different position every time. Another time he checked, Akaashi had a reading light on and a book out. An hour after that, Akaashi got up and left the room for a few minutes before coming back.

The more he turned around to check on Akaashi, the more spam he got in his chat box making fun of him for pining after his roommate, despite his insistence that he was just worried. Eventually, he turned his game off--earlier than he planned--and bid the viewers a good night.

Akaashi had turned the reading light off, but Kenma could tell he was still awake because he heard rustling coming from the bed every couple minutes. He changed into his own pajamas--Akaashi’s shirt and some boxers--before approaching Akaashi’s bed.

“Akaashi,” he said, once he was close enough to the bed. Akaashi rolled over to face him. Kenma was a little short to see over the bed easily, but Akaashi was close enough to the edge that they made eye contact anyway.

Akaashi grumbled a little, and looked acutely irritated that he was still awake. It was pretty cute.

“You can’t sleep?” Kenma asked, quietly.

“No. I keep thinking about my grades,” Akaashi replied, just as quiet. Akaashi had perfect grades, Kenma knew, but that wasn’t enough for him not to worry. Especially considering his recent test score.

“Want me to sleep with you?” Kenma asked. Akaashi’s eyes widened in a barely-perceptible show of surprise, before he narrowed them again in consideration.

“Yes, I think that would help,” he decided.

Kenma tried not to look like he was expecting that answer as he used the ladder at the end to crawl into Akaashi’s bed. Akaashi wasn’t wearing a shirt, Kenma realized with a flush of heat.

Akaashi scooted over to the wall, lying on his back, and lifted the covers for him. It was nice and warm underneath. Akaashi spread out his arm and gestured with the other for Kenma to come closer. Using Akaashi’s offered arm as a pillow, Kenma got even closer until his head rested on Akaashi’s bare shoulder and their bodies were pressed together top to toe.

He carefully spread his own arm over Akaashi’s waist and cuddled in closer, shifting his leg on top of Akaashi’s. He’d initially planned for this to comfort both of them and make sleep easier, but lying there so close was only making him more and more excited.  _ This might have been a bad idea _ , he realized, as his heart began to thump harder. How was he supposed to sleep next to the most attractive person he’d ever seen? Sleep was suddenly the last thing on his mind.

It seemed to be working for Akaashi, at least, who hadn’t moved since Kenma joined him. Peering up, Kenma saw that the man’s eyes were closed. He couldn’t tell if he was asleep yet, though, or just resting.

Without really thinking about it, Kenma leaned up and kissed Akaashi’s cheek. Just a little peck, the way Kuroo kissed his forehead all the time. Akaashi made a soft noise of surprise--not asleep, then-- and tilted his head towards Kenma, which he wasn’t really expecting, and-- _ Oh. They were kissing _ .

Akaashi pulled back, looking just as shocked as Kenma was. Kenma could feel his heart tripping over itself in his chest and hoped Akaashi couldn’t feel it, too. Kenma was scared Akaashi was going to pull back (bad), or apologize (worse), or say it was an accident (even worse) but instead he propped himself up an elbow and snaked his other arm to cup behind Kenma’s head and bring him down for another kiss. 

Akaashi’s lips were gentle against his and the first few kisses were soft pecks. Akaashi was the one who escalated it, opening his mouth against Kenma’s and dragging his lower lip across Kenma’s upper one.

The only other people Kenma had kissed were Kuroo (when they were much younger, “for practice, Kenma!”) and Hinata, when they tried dating, before they agreed they worked better as friends.

Even with his limited experience, Kenma could tell Akaashi knew what he was doing. His lips parted gently to swallow Kenma’s breathy noises and when he slipped his tongue along Kenma’s lower lip, licking into his mouth, Kenma was surprised his brain didn’t explode from how erotic it was.

His boxers grew tighter and tighter as they explored each other’s mouths. Akaashi seemed to like it when Kenma bit his lower lip and soothed it over with his tongue, almost as much as Kenma liked it when Akaashi slid his hands down to his ass and gripped, pulling them closer together. Soon, Akaashi slid a leg between Kenma’s and rolled on top, breaking off to kiss down Kenma’s neck, nipping lightly behind his ear.

Kenma would have been embarrassed by his moan if it hadn’t prompted Akaashi to roll his hips into Kenma’s, where he now lay between Kenma’s thighs. Kenma could feel him, through the measly two layers of boxer fabric between them. Kenma pulled his knees up, wrapping his legs around Akaashi’s waist and couldn’t help but imagine their situation without the barrier of clothes.

Kenma had no idea how long it had been when they finally pulled apart, chests heaving and breaths mingling between their mouths. All he knew was that he was incredibly hard, and he definitely didn’t regret the impromptu cheek kiss that had started the whole thing.

Akaashi’s lips were shiny in the low light. His eyes were glazed, his pupils wide and dark. Kenma figured his own face probably looked much the same. He ran his tongue across his own lower lip, collecting the shared spit there, and watched Akaashi’s gaze drop to watch the movement. Akaashi started to lean again before pulling slightly back and saying, his voice incredibly low, “We should go to sleep.”

Kenma nodded dazedly, before leaning in and instigating another makeout session.

Akaashi’s hands were strong and warm where they held him, his lips soft. His hair, which Kenma now had the pleasure of tangling in his fingers, was good for gripping. Eventually, though, they pulled apart again. Kenma turned his back to Akaashi, not trusting himself to keep his lips to himself if Akaashi’s face was within kissing distance.

Akaashi slipped his arm around Kenma’s waist, pulling him back into Akaashi’s arms so they were spooning. They finally fell asleep like that, Akaashi’s breaths fluttering Kenma’s hair, and their legs tangled together.

**\---**

  
  


When Akaashi woke up the next morning just as the sun was beginning to rise, he became aware of several things at once that ripped him from whatever soft morning dream he’d been drifting in.

The first, was that Kenma was next to him. It wasn’t like he forgot last night or anything, but the novelty of waking up together made him hide his elated grin in Kenma’s hair.

The second was that they were still very, very close. So close, in fact, that Akaashi wasn’t sure there was any part of his front side that wasn’t snugly cuddled up to Kenma, spooned as tight as they were.

The third thing was that Akaashi had the boner to end all boners and if Kenma were awake there’d be no way he could miss it, which made Akaashi very grateful that Kenma seemed to be fast asleep still based on the slow, even breaths Akaashi could feel against his chest.

Akaashi spent a few moments just soaking the morning in and cementing the fact that he was, indeed, in bed with Kenma and they had, indeed, spent over an hour making out last night. Swallowing each other’s moans, learning each other’s bodies; Akaashi remembered the way Kenma fit perfectly in his hands and the way his moans turned breathy when Akaashi kissed down his neck--aaaaand this wasn’t helping the boner situation.

He didn’t want to leave the comfort of the bed but he also had no way of making it go away with Kenma right there--it certainly didn’t feel like it was in a hurry to fade on its own. He considered waking Kenma up, but just because they had gotten all hot last night didn’t necessarily mean Kenma was up for more. Sighing internally, Akaashi carefully pulled his hips back and was careful not to hiss at the sudden lack of pressure.

He got out of bed as silently as possible before realizing it probably didn’t matter, since Kenma had insisted he was a heavy sleeper. He grabbed his towel and headed to the showers.

Not even five minutes later, he released his softening dick and slumped forward and let his forehead smack against the shower tile in front of him. The irony was not lost on him that he was now guilty of jerking it in a communal shower when that was precisely the thing that had grossed him out the most, when he first moved in. It was uncomfortable, feeling simultaneously euphoric from his orgasm and completely disgusted with himself for washing come off his hand in a shower everybody else had to use.  _ At least I’m the only one in here this early _ .

When Akaashi got back, it was with no small degree of horror that he realized Kenma was awake. The top half of his head poked over the side of Akaashi’s bed to make eye contact with him as he entered. Kenma rubbed a hand sleepily across both eyes, scrunching up his nose in the process.

“Where’d you go,” Kenma mumbled, raspy and without inflection.

Akaashi let out a startled cough and he could feel his ears, cheeks, and neck start to flush. His confidence from last night was nowhere to be found, now that the room was filled with brightening morning light, spilling across the bed and turning Kenma’s hair golden. He hoped his blush wasn’t as visible as it felt, but he had a sneaking suspicion, based on the way Kenma’s eyes widened and he started to blush too, that not only was his embarrassment obvious but his reasons for the shower were, too.

Akaashi ducked and smoothed his hair over his head in an uncharacteristic display of shyness. Would Kenma be uncomfortable? He didn’t want to rush their relationship, which was part of the reason he went to the bathroom instead of seeing if Kenma was in a similar mood. Sneaking a glance back at Kenma, he tried to gauge his reaction.

Kenma’s face was still a little red, but he looked amused more than anything, which was relieving.  _ Not uncomfortable, _ his brain amended,  _ but possibly more than a little interested. _ A little of the confidence from last night came back and he smirked up at Kenma.

Kenma didn’t say anything, just made a slightly pouty face and gestured for Akaashi to come back to bed, which he had every intention of doing even before Kenma asked.

After he crawled into bed and was making his way towards the pillow, Kenma turned over and held his arms out in invitation. He made grabby hands too, which Akaashi refused to find endearing (but secretly did, anyway). Akaashi was fairly certain he would never be able to forget the view in front of him.

Kenma’s eyes were still half closed with sleep, arms outstretched, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. And when Akaashi complied and folded himself into Kenma’s arms, he got to feel that morning smile against his own lips before they settled down and fell back asleep. Akaashi had morning classes, sure, but not for a few hours. It was definitely worth spending the extra hours together.

Whatever this new thing that he had with Kenma was, it came with a lot of new changes. For example, Kenma used to trudge into their room after his classes and slump to his chair, only reviving upon the administration of food or video games.

Now, Kenma would barely have shut the door before making a beeline for wherever Akaashi was and sitting on him. In the best way, of course.

Their prolonged contact used to be limited to sanctioned activities like comfort cuddles, game time, and affectionate head ruffles. Now, they spent most of their time either touching or within touching distance.

Another, less significant perk Akaashi learned quickly was that Kenma liked having his hair played with almost as much as Akaashi liked doing it. He’d try out new braids, or wrap it in a bun before dinner, and had even gone as far as buying little red clips for Kenma to wear.

Akaashi had felt unreasonably nervous handing the clips to Kenma, but he’d just smiled and kissed Akaashi’s cheek in thanks.

Their new behavior did not go unnoticed by their chaotic friends, not that Akaashi should have expected anything different. The first time they’d gone to dinner after The Night (as Akaashi had taken to calling it in his head, caps and all), he’d put Kenma’s hair into two french braids. Kuroo had taken one look at him (well, did a double-take count as one look?) before sidling into Akaashi’s personal space with a whispered “Oya?”

Bokuto had only taken a second longer to put the pieces together before he was in Akaashi’s other ear whispering, “Oya oya?” and erupting into a fit of giggles. Luckily, Kenma was across the dining hall looking for apple pie and missed the whole exchange. If only they knew what else Akaashi’s fingers had been doing lately, they might not be so quick to tease.

Akaashi blushed, remembering exactly the sort of things he and Kenma had been doing in the weeks since the kiss. He’d initially been worried about moving too fast for Kenma, but it hadn’t taken long for Kenma to break down that assumption by waiting in their room in only thigh highs and Akaash’s t-shirt--it certainly was a memorable way to start off their sex life.

And what a sex life it was. Kenma surprised Akaashi at every turn, both in terms of his libido and his adventurous spirit in the bedroom. He quickly banished all thoughts Akaashi may have had about Kenma being shy or prudish in any way.

Akaashi glanced down to his hands, remembering the way Kenma had shivered and moaned with every--he abruptly ended that train of thought and shook himself back to the present where he was currently  _ in public _ .

He turned back to Kuroo and Bokuto, who were sharing smug looks over Akaashi’s head, presumably finding amusement in what they thought was Akaashi mooning after Kenma. To be fair, he wasn’t  _ not _ mooning; it was just that his thoughts were far dirtier than either of them could probably imagine.

It wasn’t that they were keeping their new development a secret from their friends. If anything, Akaashi didn’t see how there was much to tell in the first place. They’d gotten closer, by a significant amount, but that had technically been happening since school started. If Kenma wanted to talk to them about it, Akaashi would join him. Until then, he figured it might be fun to see how long it takes their chaotic friends to notice.

In the meantime, he would continue to humor their teasing about his “crush.”

Over the past couple weeks, the four of them had been hanging out more. It technically started because Kuroo felt the need to stage an intervention about Kenma’s diet, which both Kenma and Akaashi took personal offense to.

Kenma, because he saw nothing wrong with eating only breakfast food, chicken nuggets, and apple pie.

Akaashi, because it made him wonder if perhaps he should have been trying harder to make Kenma eat vegetables as his roommate and as-of-recent lover.

The outcome of Kuroo’s declaration was group cooking, in the basement of their friends’ dorm. There was a rarely-used kitchen there that none of them had ever stepped in and only two of them knew existed at all.

“Group cooking” quickly turned into Kuroo cooking, Bokuto “helping” (read: trying to put his hands down Kuroo’s shorts), and Kenma playing on his PSP on the gross couch down there that had more than a few questionable stains.

Akaashi was torn. On the one hand, he was actually an excellent cook. Not only was he confident in his ability to turn vegetables into something Kenma would eat, he also liked the idea of making something for his roommate. It fulfilled some sort of primal need to make sure his loved ones were taken care of.

On the other hand--A loud screech made Akaashi whip his head around to where Kuroo’s shorts were around his ankles, Bokuto was on his knees with his thumbs in Kuroo’s boxer waistband, and a pan was on fire. Wait.  _ A pan was on fire _ .

_ On the other hand _ , he finished, after he’d put the pan out in the sink, nothing sounded more migraine-inducing than trying to operate in a kitchen  _ anywhere near _ his best friend. As much as he loved Bokuto (and it was a lot), the man was a natural disaster sometimes. All the time. With that decision made, Akaashi chose the filthy couch over the kitchen.

Kenma didn’t even look up from his game when Akaashi came over and pulled him up by his wrist, sat down on the couch behind him, and tugged him into his lap.  _ Yeah, _ Akaashi thought fondly,  _ I’d take this shitty couch and Kenma on my lap over helping those two cook anyday. _

In addition to cooking together in the basement at least twice a week (and that venture was slowly improving--there had been no kitchen fires since the first time), the four of them had taken to hanging out in Kuroo and Bokuto’s room a lot.

They’d been playing a lot of video games together (“Group bonding!” Bokuto had screeched, way too close and too loud for Akaashi’s comfort), mostly.

That’s how Akaashi found himself one Saturday at noon, squished between Kenma and Bokuto, who were currently engaged in an intense round of Smash Bros. Kuroo’s switch was plugged into their flat screen, and all four of them were stuffed on Bokuto’s bed.

Their friends had planned out their dorm room pretty craftily, if Akaashi had to admit it. They both slept in Kuroo’s bed, which had been lofted. Akaashi had no idea how they fit, since he and Kenma barely fit on his own bed and they were both smaller than their friends. Their desks were under Kuroo’s bed. Bokuto’s bed, meanwhile, had been turned into a sort of couch. It was knee-height, piled high with pillows of all sizes and too many blankets to count.

It actually looked somewhat like a nest, if birds could be over 6 feet tall, loud, and as rambunctious as his friends always were.  _ Well, everything but the height makes sense, actually _ .

They’d also been having movie nights, but those were generally tamer than the game nights and tended to devolve into chaos less frequently.

The four of them were taking turns, but it quickly became clear that Bokuto and Kenma were getting the most out of playing. Kenma was the reigning champion, of course, and while Kuroo was the second best, Bokuto had sworn to defeat Kenma by the end of the night.

Two hours in and it hadn’t happened. Kenma and Bokuto were getting increasingly rowdy, which mostly meant Bokuto’s elbows had a higher chance of catching Akaashi in the jaw. For Kenma, “getting rowdy” meant emitting soft growls occasionally and wiggling his feet incessantly.

Akaashi was sitting next to Bokuto on the couch and Kenma sat on the floor between his legs. Akaashi was entertaining himself by braiding and rebraiding Kenma’s hair in increasingly complex patterns. Occasionally, when Akaashi finished tying off a braid, Kenma would tilt his face up and grin at Akaashi, making his stomach flutter.  _ Kenma is almost painfully cute always, but especially when he looks at me like that _ .

Kuroo had started up a competition of his own that Akaashi had mentally dubbed Bother Kenma Until He Loses.

“Hey Kenma,” Kuroo crowed, leaning forward from where he sat next to Bokuto, on the other end of the couch from Akaashi. “Don’t choke!...Ohhh ho ho, that was close, Kenma, he almost had you!” He had not, in fact, almost had him. Kenma seemed to know this, taking a second to send a sneer over to Kuroo before turning back to the game.

“Oi oi, Kenma,” Kuroo said again. Kenma didn’t even twitch. “We got some apple pie in the fridge, do you want some? I can grab you a plate,” Kuroo leered. This time, Kenma broke concentration for a second to glance over at the mini fridge. He turned back to the game in time, though.

“Kenma, did you know Bokuto and I had sex last night exactly where you two are sitting?” Kenma just turned his ick face on Kuroo, but Akaashi sat up quickly, looking around the makeshift couch for evidence. He couldn’t tell if Kuroo was lying or not, and Bokuto’s snickers weren’t helping him figure it out.

“Hey Kenma--”

“Kuroo-san, Bokuto-san told me he thinks your chemistry jokes are stupid,” Akaashi interrupted.  _ Two can play this game _ .

Kuroo turned to his boyfriend, a look of betrayal on his face.

“Wha--I did not! Babe, you know I love your jokes!” Was Bokuto’s dismayed defense. The distraction was enough for Kenma to knock out Bokuto’s character again, and Akaashi and Kenma shared a devious smirk.

“Oh, it is  _ on _ , Akaashi.” Kuroo had smoothed it over with Bokuto, who was valiantly trying not to cry at having lost another round. Bokuto turned his watery eyes to Akaashi, and Akaashi almost wavered. He’d always had a soft spot for Bokuto, obviously, and hurting his best friend’s feelings felt like hurting himself.

He didn’t have time to ruminate too long, though, because another round was starting and Kuroo started off strong with, “Kenma and I used to practice kissing with each other!” Akaashi turned to Kenma with disbelief on his face, who blushed up to his ears and didn’t recover fast enough, taking some damage from Bokuto in the game.

“I--it was your idea, Kuroo,” Kenma defended, still bright red.

Akaashi had to cut this off before Kenma took too much damage.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi started, and Bokuto flicked his gaze to Akaashi for a moment, clearly worried about what Akaashi was going to say. “Kenma is really good at these games. So don’t worry if you have trouble beating him; it doesn’t mean you’re a bad player.”

This was clearly not what Bokuto was expecting, since his eyes softened and he said, “Awww, Aghaaashi, that’s so nice--” and Kenma kicked him off the platform so he lost a point.

“That was dirty,” Kuroo complained, glaring at Akaashi. “Bro, gimme your controller, let me avenge you!” He held out his hand for the controller, but Bokuto didn’t release it.

“Nah, bro, this is my fight. I just gotta beat him once!” Bokuto was already cheering himself up, the competitive glint returning to his eyes.

This round, Kuroo and Akaashi were ready. As soon as the match began, they started trash-talking back and forth again while their respective roommates fought on the screen.

“Kenma, remember that time you played for 24 hours straight and then got so sick you ended up in the ER?”

“Bokuto-san, I still haven’t told Kuroo about the Bathroom Incident in your last year of high school, should I tell him now?”

“Kenma, Tora told me you convinced a girl not to confess to me in high school, should we talk about that?”

“Kuroo-san, I talked Bokuto-san out of buying you a promise ring for you as a graduation gift.” Akaashi was surprised to realize just how much he was enjoying this back-and-forth with Kuroo. It was rare that someone was able to rile him up, get him to be a little louder, a little less serious. Their teasing was almost bordering on flirting, and it felt different than what he had with Kenma, but just as exciting. Kenma, too, from the amused smirk on his face, was enjoying their exchanges just as much.

“KYANMA, AKAASHI HAS A CRUSH ON--”

“Can you guys please shut the fuck up? I can’t focus--” Bokuto interrupted, shifting his attention for a moment and falling off the platform again as a result. Kenma quickly got another point after that, capitalizing on Bokuto’s distraction, and cementing yet another win. As the scores flashed on the screen, Bokuto stood up quickly, dropped the controller on the bed, and left the room.

Silence followed, so thick it made Akaashi’s ears ache. The three of them looked at each other, unsure as to who should be the one to follow Bokuto and make sure he was okay and not seriously upset.

“I’ll go.” Kenma, surprisingly enough, was the one to volunteer. Akaashi and Kuroo just shrugged at each other as Kenma stood up, more slowly than Bokuto had, and left the room.

It was only awkward for a second before Kuroo said, “A promise ring, huh?” With a combination of bashfulness and adoration on his face.

“I told him it was too much, too soon. You’d only been dating a couple months, after all,” Akaashi explained. Kuroo hummed thoughtfully.

“I guess you’re right. I probably still would have liked it, though.” Kuroo got the most sickeningly soft smile on his face, evidently thinking about his boyfriend.

Akaashi cleared his throat, suddenly self conscious. “And you and Kenma…?” He trailed off at the end, hoping to avoid having to put his question into words.

“Are you really telling me you and Bokuto never fooled around?” Kuroo asked, seeming genuinely surprised.

“Certainly not,” Akaashi answered. He neglected to mention just how much he’d thought about it, though, back in high school. Bokuto had been his everything, his star, the reason he joined Fukurodani in the first place. He didn’t say he’d always wanted to kiss Bokuto, just to see what it was like, but he felt Kuroo could tell anyway.

“He really loves you, you know.” Kuroo said seriously rather than teasing, for once.

“I know.” Akaashi smiled. “Kenma loves you too. And Bokuto-san, of course.”

Kuroo flashed his signature smirk, but it was full of joy and sincerity. “We’re pretty lucky, huh?” He asked, gaze drifting to the door.

_ Yes. We really are. _


	4. A place that had started hurting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some angst for you~

Kenma didn’t have to search long for Bokuto. There was a door at the end of the hallway that led to a little balcony that Kenma knew Bokuto liked. Through the glass door, he could see Bokuto sitting on the balcony floor, legs dangling under the railing.

It was getting into winter, but the sun was still out and it was warm enough that Kenma didn’t feel the need to turn back and get a jacket. He was wearing Akaashi’s sweatshirt, something that seemed to have escaped Kuroo’s notice earlier otherwise it definitely would have been brought up during the game.

Bokuto didn’t turn around when he came through the door. Hesitating, Kenma decided to sit directly next to him. He stuck his legs through the railing, like Bokuto, and pressed his side up against the taller man.

“It’s pretty, right?” Bokuto asked.

It was. The sun was setting early because of the season, and cast the city in golden light that reflected off the metallic and glass surfaces of the buildings in front of them. The west-facing balcony was warm from so many hours in the sun.

“I’m sorry I beat you so hard,” Kenma apologized. He was used to winning, used to feeling proud when he did it, not this vague guilt. Had he taken it too far? He didn’t really know how to apologize for this, but he was willing to try. For as loud and energetic as Bokuto could be, Kenma certainly never wanted to hurt him. He actually liked him, not just as Kuroo’s plus one, and didn’t like the thought of unintentionally ruining anything between them.

“That’s okay,” Bokuto replied. He was still looking out at the city, but his face was already relaxing, expression turning from defeated to peaceful. “I just get so into it sometimes, you know? I forget it’s a game, and then I take it harder than I should when I inevitably lose. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Kenma was almost taken aback by how reasonable and self-aware Bokuto could be. His second year of college was a far cry from the mood swings Kenma used to see when they played volleyball.

“I don’t think it’s a bad thing to get competitive, or care about winning. That’s what makes it so fun,” Kenma said. “I bet you could beat Kuroo, if you tried. And Akaashi, for sure.”

“You think?” Bokuto asked, finally looking down to meet Kenma’s gaze.

Kenma pressed closer, enjoying how warm Bokuto’s side was compared to the outside cold. “Definitely,” he assured. Bokuto’s face visibly brightened, and it was like watching the sun come out from behind a cloud. Kenma could see why his best friend was so stupidly in love with this man.

Kenma felt Bokuto shiver a little; he really wasn’t dressed for the weather, in a short sleeve shirt and sweatpants. “Want to go back inside?” Kenma asked, “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah!” Bokuto replied, back to his usual energy. He stood up, dusting off his pants and reaching a hand down to help Kenma up. “I usually cheer up pretty fast,” he admitted, voice gone soft again, “But it’s nice when somebody is here to help. So thank you.”

Kenma felt his cheeks heat up, suddenly embarrassed. He’d have to make sure Bokuto didn’t tell Kuroo how hard he’d tried to be comforting, or he’d never hear the end of it. Kenma felt strong arms wrap around him in a quick hug, then Bokuto’s hand was dropping to his head to ruffle his hair in a much rougher version of Akaashi’s head pats. He glared up at Bokuto, but it lacked any real bite.

“You’re pretty good at that, you know?” Bokuto smiled his sunshine grin again, and lead the way back to the room.

When they got back, it was to the sight of Kuroo lying on his back on the couch bed, tossing a volleyball repeatedly into the air. Akaashi’s head rested on his stomach, and he had a look of horror and amusement aimed at Kuroo.

They broke off whatever conversation they were having when Bokuto walked in the door, holding it open for Kenma behind him. Kenma would have to remember to ask Akaashi what Kuroo had been saying, since it looked scandalous. He wondered if he would be able to phrase it in a way that made it seem like he didn’t care.

“Can we have a movie night now? I want popcorn!” Bokuto yelled, holding his arms out to the side as if requesting favor from the gods. Kuroo and Akaashi seemed unfazed by Bokuto’s mood change. Kuroo popped up from the couch to help with popcorn, not bothering to warn Akaashi before he let his head smack down on the mattress, earning a glare from the curly haired man.

Kenma didn’t slow down once as he beelined from the door to faceplant directly onto Akaashi, further abusing him in the fragile state Kuroo had left him in. Akaashi let out a pained “oomph” when Kenma fell on his chest, but Kenma knew he was forgiven when Akaashi immediately brought his arms up to wrap Kenma in a hug.

Akaashi’s warmth was comforting after being outside in the cold, even though it was only for a few minutes. Looking up, Kenma saw Kuroo and Bokuto were busy trying to be the one to type the numbers into the microwave, so he scooched farther up Akaashi’s body and placed little kisses on his chin, nose, then finally his lips.

Akaashi’s arms tightened around his waist and Kenma was just opening his mouth to deepen it when--

“OH MY GOD, WHAT? ARE YOU SERIOUS?! BRO, BABE, LOOK AT THIS,” Bokuto practically yelled at the top of his lungs, jaw slack as he gaped at Kenma and Akaashi. He smacked his hand repeatedly on Kuroo, without looking away, until Kuroo turned around and let out a yell of his own.

“Since when was this,” Kuroo waved vaguely (but vigorously) around at them, “a thing?! Akaashi, I thought you were doing the whole unrequited pining thing. When did this start?”

Before either of them could answer, Bokuto’s forlorn voice added, “Akaashi, I thought we were best buds, bromates for life, why didn’t you tell me?” Bokuto’s lip started to quiver, but Kenma narrowed his eyes when he realized Bokuto was just being dramatic on purpose, this time.

Kenma looked down to Akaashi, who was turning faintly pink at having been caught, then back up to the other two. He didn’t say anything.

“No, seriously, though. We took bets. When did this happen?” Kuroo asked again, not-so-subtly elbowing Bokuto in the ribs and barely containing his look of glee. Bokuto looked about ready to pop, bouncing slightly in place and looking approximately four seconds away from running at them and trying for a group hug.

Kenma looked back down at Akaashi, then back up, then down again. He furrowed his brows in confusion.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Akaashi said, looking up at the other two.

“Yeah, Kuroo, it’s not like we’re dating or anything,” Kenma replied, sliding his hand down Akaashi’s stomach towards his crotch with absolutely zero shame.

“WOAH WOAH WOAH, none of that!” Bokuto cried, clapping his hands over his eyes and peeking through his fingers at where Kenma still hadn’t stopped inching his hand into Akaashi’s pants. “Bro, make them stop! That’s our couch!”

Kenma halted his hand, dissolving into quiet giggles. Akaashi smirked down at him, something unreadable in his eyes.

Kuroo was too busy looking like he’d won the lottery to address Kenma and Akaashi and defend the couch’s virtue. (Not that it had any left, at this point). Rather, he was leering at Bokuto with a suggestive expression. “You know what this means, babe,” he said, with a ridiculous wiggle of his eyebrows. Bokuto flushed bright red, in an uncharacteristic display of shame. Bokuto nodded and looked like he was biting his lips to prevent himself from retorting.

“Tonight, can we do it tonight?” Kuroo asked, and Bokuto’s blush got even brighter. He nodded again before turning back to the microwave, which had begun beeping. Kenma figured the popcorn being done was a really convenient way for Bokuto to escape their questioning eyes.

“I really don’t want to know,” Akaashi said, right when Kuroo opened his mouth to explain. Kuroo’s devious smirk said more than enough, and Kenma was in agreement with Akaashi that they needed no further explanation. When Kuroo (blessedly) turned back to Bokuto, nuzzling his neck and whispering (probably foul) things in his ear, Kenma inched his way back towards Akaashi’s mouth.

Right when their lips were about to touch again, and Akaashi’s hands were sliding dangerously low on Kenma’s back, Kuroo whipped back around with a pointed finger and a loud “HAH! No making out in our room!” Which startled them both so badly that Kenma kneed dangerously close to Akaashi’s groin and Akaashi headbutted Kenma’s nose so hard when he jumped that Kenma whimpered and cupped his hand under it to make sure it wasn’t bleeding.

Needless to say, it was enough to deter them from trying it again any time soon. Kenma privately vowed to get revenge.

  
  


An hour later, they’d all settled down on the bed-couch once again. Bokuto was on the end, followed by Kuroo practically in his lap, then Kenma, then Akaashi on the other end. It had been somewhat uncomfortable for the first few minutes since the hard wall behind them made it hard to recline, but that only lasted as long as they tried to stay sitting straight.

Soon enough, Kuroo fussed enough that they paused the movie (Transformers, because Bokuto and Kuroo had an inexplicable love for it) so that Kuroo could pile enough pillows behind Bokuto that they could cuddle in comfort. Kenma stood up and surveyed the situation. Kuroo was on his back, Bokuto under his right arm. Kenma lifted Kuroo’s left arm, ignoring the disgruntled sound he made, and tugged Akaashi under the arm until he was on his back, cuddled next to Kuroo’s other side.  _ Perfect. _

Satisfied, he surveyed the veritable cuddle puddle he’d helped create before unpausing the movie and settling down in Akaashi’s lap, half on top of Akaashi, half cuddled into Kuroo. He was so warm and comfortable that he didn’t think twice about shutting his eyes and falling asleep. He didn’t really like the movie, anyway.

He had only really intended to have a soft comfy nap, so when he woke up to the Sunday sunlight streaming through Kuroo and Bokuto’s window, he was understandably confused.

He was, for once, the first one awake, and it took him a few groggy seconds to fully take in his surroundings. He could feel Akaashi spooned behind him, with his face tucked close into Kenma’s neck, and a hand low on his hip. That was fairly normal.

The less normal part was that his own face was buried under Kuroo’s chin, a spot of drool on Kuroo’s collarbone, and his legs were tangled with his best friend’s. Kuroo’s arms were around him, loosely encasing him (and, by extension, Akaashi too). Behind Kuroo, Kenma could see Bokuto spooned just as tightly with Kuroo as Akaashi was with him.

It was kind of nice, actually. Nice, but also one thousand million degrees Celsius. His palms were damp where they were fisted in Kuroo’s shirt, and his back felt damp where Akaashi was pressed against him. He didn’t really want to leave the cocoon of cuddles  _ hah, cocoon of cuddles _ , but he was pretty sure if he didn’t he might explode into flame. For at least two reasons, only one of which being actual temperature.

Kenma was extra careful in his escape. He slid downwards, leaving a small gap between Akaashi and Kuroo which Akaashi filled by making a sleepy noise and snuggling closer without either of them waking up. It almost made Kenma’s brain explode from cuteness overload, but he contained himself until he was able to exit the cuddle puddle completely.

They looked really, really precious. The sunlight was still a watery yellow, not quite golden, so Kenma knew it had to be early. The three of them made quite the picture; Kenma’s three favorite people, all sleepy and cuddly and adorable. He snapped a picture before one of them could wake up and ruin it. Then he took another one, this time with himself in the corner holding up a peace sign. He set it as his phone background.

**\---**

Akaashi should have known the honeymoon period wouldn’t last. He just didn’t expect it to end so painfully, is all.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it. “ _ Yeah, Kuroo, it’s not like we’re dating or anything. _ ” That’s what Kenma had said; there was no room for interpretation. And suddenly, Akaashi was realizing that he and Kenma had never actually talked about what they were. Initially, that had been something Akaashi had liked, that they could be on the same page without even having talked about it.

It seemed he’d been wrong. “ _ It’s not like we’re dating or anything. _ ” Weren’t they, though? They certainly did everything couples did, between the emotional intimacy and the sex and the attached-at-the-hip thing they had going on.

The thing was, Akaashi couldn’t even point to the moment he stopped thinking of his relationship with Kenma as casual and started thinking about it more seriously. He still referred to Kenma as his roommate, still thought of them as friends above all, lovers second. But somewhere along the way, Kenma had carved out a place in his heart.

A place that had started hurting, now that he thought about it. Akaashi was lying in bed alone, Kenma streaming on the other side of the room, sounding the same as he always did. The voice Akaashi used to find so soothing as he fell asleep now made him jittery, nervous, as if he should run while he still had the chance.

Did Kenma think about him the way he thought about Kenma? Did he want to hold his hand, meet his parents, look at apartments together for next year if things kept going the way they were? Was he the first thing Kenma thought of when he woke up?

Akaashi felt his eyes start to burn, and willed them to stop. There was a reason Akaashi didn’t let many people in, and this was it. The hurt, when it inevitably came, felt like it was tearing him apart.

_ Be rational about this, Akaashi _ , his brain tried to comfort.  _ Maybe Kenma just said that to tease them. You were the one who denied your relationship first, after all. _ It was true; but Akaashi hadn’t expected Kenma’s dismissal to feel so much like he was stepping on Akaashi’s heart.

_ You’re overthinking again.  _ But he couldn’t help how he felt. And how he felt was that Kenma liked him, was attracted to him, and enjoyed being around him, but didn’t want to be with him the way Akaashi wanted to be with Kenma. And that hurt.

_ It doesn’t have to be a thing. It’s not like you’re in love with him; it’s not too late. _ Akaashi steeled himself. It wasn’t like him to get so twisted up about somebody else. Sure, he liked Kenma, obviously. And they didn’t have to stop what they were doing; Akaashi just had to pull back a little bit, be less vulnerable. That was easy; it was Akaashi was good at, after all.

Akaashi knew he was responsible for his own feelings, and that’s why he had to handle this on his own; he wouldn’t let his emotions ruin his relationship with his roommate.

When Akaashi felt Kenma crawl into his bed later that night, finished streaming, he took him in his arms like always. But as he fell asleep, he couldn’t help the sadness weighing down his heart.

He started with little things. He didn’t want to hurt Kenma, after all, didn’t want to become an imposition in any way, really. He just wanted to protect himself, and that meant pulling away a little bit at a time.

So he started staying later at his favorite book shop, doing the homework alone that he usually did with Kenma. He still sat with him in the two classes they shared, of course he did. But then he’d go to the book store while Kenma was in his other classes, and spend hours doing homework or reading.

A pleasant outcome of the whole situation was that Akaashi now had a lot more time to focus on his grades. He completed all the possible extra credit opportunities for the class he’d tested poorly in, he worked ahead in the rest of his classes, and when he ran out of school work to do, he curled up by a window in the store and read books.

It was peaceful, if a bit lonely.

Spending so much time away from campus also meant he missed some of the group dinners. Not many, not most, but enough that Bokuto had taken to asking Akaashi to come to dinner rather than assuming he would. It felt nice to be wanted by someone, even if it wasn’t his roommate.

Kenma picked up on it. It made sense; Akaashi knew his roommate was just as observant as Akaashi himself, but he thought he’d been being subtle enough. Apparently not, if the “:(“ text he received after he chose not to bring Kenma breakfast for the fourth day in a row meant anything. So, Kenma noticed something, but never confronted Akaashi.

Akaashi couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or relieved that Kenma never said anything.

Akaashi stopped going to game nights, too. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to; if anything, it was the opposite. The more he tried to pull away from Kenma, the more the man dominated his every thought.

He’d barely changed his behavior, but already Akaashi missed him. It felt weird, engaging in the same behaviors most of the time but trying to distance himself emotionally at the same time. The most embarrassing example, Akaashi remembered, was when he almost cried the last time they had sex. He hadn’t, but it was close.

The plan wasn’t working, to say the least. Now Akaashi was just sadder, more lonely, and still  in love with Kenma  wanting the same thing he had in the beginning. Maybe it just took time, he reasoned, and tried to pull away harder.

The only person he saw with any consistency was Bokuto. Bokuto, who brightened his days with his grin, and was surprisingly gentle in his support. Granted, Bokuto had tried to make him talk about it at first. But after Akaashi stated, in no uncertain terms, that Bokuto’s company was appreciated but his questions were not, he stopped.

It was 11pm on a school night when Akaashi trudged through the light snow back to the dorm from the book shop. He’d barely seen Kenma at all this week, only sleeping together at night and sharing occasional meals with the others.

Kenma had only asked once, in a quiet voice, “Are you okay?” That had been Sunday, and Akaashi had nodded, not trusting his words. Now it was Thursday, and Akaashi felt, to put it mildly, like shit. The pining was one thing, but he’d started feeling on edge whenever he was around Kenma, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Kenma to tell him he wanted to stop whatever it was they were doing.  _ Not dating, apparently.  _ The thought was still bitter.

He came face to face with his own door. Kenma was somewhere inside, probably; it was late enough that he’d be home. Kenma was probably streaming. Kenma probably wasn’t thinking about Akaashi. Suddenly, it didn’t feel fair that Akaashi could be so focused on Kenma, for weeks now, even before it went sour, and Akaashi had no indication that Kenma was doing the same.

He didn’t want to go in, for the first time since he moved to college. He turned and left.

Kuroo was the one to open their door, which Akaashi had been hoping would not be the case. Bokuto knew him better, knew how to deal, and was more likely to take his side.  _ Since when are there sides? _

Kuroo’s face was not happy. Akaashi was taken aback by how out of place the guarded expression looked on the normally jovial man. Kuroo didn’t say anything, though, just stepped aside to let him in, shoulders tight.

“Where’s Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asked, realizing the room was empty other than Kuroo.

A muscle in Kuroo’s jaw twitched and for the first time in a long time, Akaashi felt uncomfortable around him. “Library.”

“Do you mind if I--”

“What are you doing to Kenma, Akaashi?” Kuroo didn’t even let Akaashi get his request out before he said it, voice hard.

“Uh--excuse me?” Akaashi was genuinely confused. Doing to Kenma? Nothing, lately. Akaashi hadn’t really seen him enough  _ to  _ do anything. “What do you mean?” He followed up. His unease was growing. Akaashi had an urge to fiddle with his hands, a habit he thought he’d broken in high school.

“Yeah. You haven’t been around to notice, I assume, but he looks like shit.” Kuroo’s eyes got even angrier, somehow. Akaashi still didn’t really know what Kuroo was mad about, but there was no mistaking the concern in his eyes.

“Is he sick or something? He seemed fine last time I saw him.” Which, now that Akaashi thought about it, had been in the dark and only before he fell asleep. 

“I’m talking about you, asshole.”

Akaashi’s eyes widened. But he hadn’t--

“We figured you were going through something, I don’t know, that you’d tell us when you felt ready. Kenma was actually the one who told us not to bother you about it. So we didn’t. Do you know how many times I’ve had to prevent Bokuto from marching over and trying to sort this out himself? We all love you Akaashi, and we’re trying, but damn. Give us a break, would ya? You’re lucky Bokuto’s cramming for his test right now; he’s been saving up a rant for a while. We want the best for you, but you can’t pull this shit with Kenma. We won’t let you do it to yourself, or to him.”

Akaashi furrowed his brows in confusion. He could understand their concern about him, but what was this about Kenma? Akaashi was starting to get worried.

“He hasn’t been sleeping well. Or eating enough. Or taking care of himself at all, really. He looks like he did right after I left for college last year. Losing weight, eye bags, hell, he probably stopped showering, too. I bet you haven’t even noticed, have you?” Kuroo sneered, and Akaashi felt sick. “You know he did a 24 hour stream on Tuesday? Do you know how fucked up that is?” Kuroo’s voice was getting louder, and Akaashi flinched at his tone.

Akaashi stayed silent, but his throat started to ache.  _ What is this feeling? Could it be heartbreak? _

“I don’t know what your deal is, but you’d better figure it the fuck out before you hurt him any more. He cares about you, more than he cares about anybody else, and if this is your twisted way of breaking up with him without confrontation, I can tell you it’s not going to work. He deserves better than that.” Kuroo practically spit the last word out, chest heaving. His face was torn between grief and anger, and Akaashi was finally able to put some pieces together.

“You mean, Kenma’s...sad? Because of me? Because I’ve been--” He looked around, as if the quiet room would offer him some simple way to phrase what he’d been trying to do. Protect himself, without hurting the others. It was starting to look like he’d failed on both fronts.

“Why didn’t he say anything?” Akaashi asked, taking advantage of Kuroo’s prolonged silence. He tried to pretend his voice hadn’t cracked at the end.

Kuroo let out a humorless chuckle and sagged into himself, running a hand through his messy hair. “When has Kenma ever said what he needs to, Akaashi.” It was more of a statement, than a question. “You, of all people, should have figured that out by now.”

Akaashi felt nauseous. Had he been wrong the whole time? He knew he tended to overthink things, but Kenma had  _ said _ they weren’t dating, had dismissed their relationship just like that. Akaashi had always had trouble feeling valued, feeling loved. He looked for rejection, always, to never be caught unawares. The longer this conversation went on, the more sure Akaashi became that he’d miscalculated.

“He said...he said we weren’t dating, though,” Akaashi said, voice even quieter than normal. In light of all Kuroo had just said, it sounded like a weak excuse even to his own ears.

“So what! You took that to mean he doesn’t care at all?” Kuroo asked, incredulity coloring his tone. He shook his head. At least, Akaashi noticed, he seemed less angry now that he knew Akaashi was just being an idiot rather than malicious or duplicitous.

“This whole time, I was trying to avoid him because I thought he didn’t feel the same. I thought I could deal with my emotions in private, without inconveniencing him.” Then that means-- “So Kenma thought I was avoiding him...because of something he did?”

Akaashi’s throat was aching and his eyes began to burn. He pictured Kenma, waiting in their room, for a roommate who never showed up. A roommate who gave no indication of what was going on, just did his best to drop out of Kenma’s life. A lover who, with no explanation, stopped loving. Akaashi wanted to cry.  _ How could I have been so selfish? _

Akaashi sat down on the couch bed, feeling more tired than he had in weeks. Finally, the uncomfortable buzzing under his skin was gone, and he was left with an ache so profound he didn’t quite know what to do with it.

_ This is salvageable, _ he reminded himself.  _ I can apologize, explain myself, maybe it won’t be too late. Maybe he’ll forgive me. _

“I’m going to fix it,” Akaashi said. He knew he sounded determined, and he was. He meant it. It seemed Kuroo picked up on his sincerity, because his shoulders relaxed around a big sigh and he sat down next to Akaashi on the bed.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Kuroo said, but this time it was said fondly. Akaashi wasn’t aware that phrase could be said inoffensively, but Kuroo achieved it somehow.

“I know.”

“It’s late,” Kuroo said, gesturing at the clock. It read 1:04, “You can stay here tonight, as long as you fix this immediately in the morning. You were planning on staying here anyway, right?” Akaashi nodded.

Kuroo set him up on the couch with blankets. The last thing Akaashi heard before he fell asleep was Bokuto coming in and exchanging hushed whispers with his boyfriend. For the first time in weeks, Akaashi slept easily. He was going to fix this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my first time writing angst! I know it's not very much, but let me know how I did :) tell me what you liiiiiiiike


	5. But Kenma couldn't fault him for his insecurities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a little worse, but then they get better :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, everybody! I hope, dear reader, that your 2020 wasn't too bad. And if it was, I hope you're coping. Wishing a better year ahead for everyone :)
> 
> Sending good vibes, can you feel them?~

Something was wrong with Akaashi. He tried to hide it, but Kenma noticed. How could he not, after months and months of getting closer only to drift apart, suddenly, inexplicably.

Kenma tried to get him to talk about it, at first, but Akaashi hadn’t budged. Kenma respected that, knew better than anyone how sometimes things--people--needed space or time to sort themselves out.

Sure, it stung a little when Akaashi refused to let Kenma help, but that just made Kenma all the more prepared to support him when the time eventually came. And so, he waited.

He endured the nights Akaashi came home late, not bothering with a greeting before heading to bed.

He tried not to text him too much when Akaashi didn’t make it to dinner, or skipped game night.

He valiantly tried not to take it personally when Akaashi started sleeping in a separate bed, again.

Akaashi did it as subtly as he could, Kenma supposed. The changes were small(ish) and spaced apart. A missed dinner, twice a week. No game night, but he’d come to movie night. Things like that, that convinced Kenma that things weren’t so bad.

He wouldn’t let them get bad, he decided. He’d wait, and when Akaashi was ready, he’d be there. He wasn’t the type to leave when things got tough; he could wait it out, he was sure.

At least, that’s what he thought. But then it got worse, and Akaashi didn’t say anything. He’d clam up every time Kenma tried to bring it up. Kenma knew he wasn’t the best with verbal communication and preferred actions to words, but his failed attempts at connection were starting to wear on him.

He didn’t give up, per say, but he stopped trying as hard. He came to accept that maybe, after all this, Akaashi didn’t want Kenma to help. It hurt more than Kenma expected.

He didn’t like it when their room was empty. It started to feel like he was living alone; he woke up alone, went to class, and came back to an empty room. No Akaashi behind the door, or at his desk, or on his bed. Sometime, Akaashi didn’t come back for hours, until Kenma was already streaming, and went to bed without saying goodnight.

Kenma stopped waking up to breakfast. The first day, he figured Akaashi forgot. The second, he wasn’t sure. By the third day, Kenma realized it had been a choice; he just couldn’t figure out why.

He tried to be reasonable about it--maybe Akaashi was struggling in a class? But why wouldn’t he have told him? It didn’t take long to reach the conclusion that whatever was bothering Akaashi, was directly related to Kenma.

Kenma just. Didn’t know what it was, was all. He started by combing through their interactions before Akaashi started acting weird. Was it because he didn’t stay to cuddle that one morning? Unlikely. He couldn’t think of anything he’d done recently, which made him wonder if it wasn’t a specific thing.

Maybe, he realized, Akaashi just didn’t like him that much anymore. He knew he could be weird, and his social skills weren’t the best, but he’d been doing better. Akaashi was easier to talk to than most; he thought--well, it didn’t matter what he thought. Because the truth was, there was something about Kenma that displeased Akaashi enough that he couldn’t stand to be in the same room any more.

That didn’t explain the fact that they still had sex, sometimes, and still slept together. Those actions lost some of their appeal after Kenma’s realization. But they were all Kenma had left, really. So he participated, enjoyed it even, and tried to pretend it was enough.

He knew he was slipping. He was losing weight, he could tell, and his sleep had been fitful at best lately. He kept having dreams--dreams that Akaashi was leaving, that Kenma was being buried alive, that his parents were dying--that kept him up and filled his nights with anxiety.

The only thing he could think to do was distract himself. He threw himself into his gaming. He started spending more and more time streaming, neglecting his own needs--and classes--in favor of staring into his computer for hours at a time.

At least that way, he didn’t have to think.

The comments on his videos went from teasing him about his crush on his roommate, to being excited for the new hours, to getting worried. More than one viewer had commented on his health, which just annoyed him.

It was the 24-hour stream that did him in, really. It was way too long to spend slumped in his seat. He didn’t eat the whole time, just drank red bulls and took bathroom breaks. By the end, his eyes were red and his body hurt. But after, he crashed so hard he didn’t dream at all for 16 blissful hours.

Kuroo had been hanging around. He started bringing him food, which Kenma thought was sweet but also bitter because it wasn’t Akaashi. Kuroo also bullied him into taking showers and hanging out with him and Bokuto while Akaashi was suspiciously absent.

“You gotta say something, Kenma,” Kuroo finally said, when he walked in to find Kenma skipping his classes in favor of staring at the ceiling for hours.

“Probably,” Kenma replied. His voice was raspy.

“Want me to kick his ass?”

“No, thanks.” His eyes were drifting closed again.

“I’m serious, Kenma. Don’t let him do this.” Kuroo looked sad, angry, and protective. Even Bokuto, who had been helping take care of Kenma, looked upset on Kenma’s behalf.

“Okay.”

The plan was simple: Kenma would apologize. He didn’t know what for, but he figured he’d ask directly after the apology. Whatever he did, he hadn’t meant to do. Surely, Akaashi would realize that. And if it was something more fundamental, Kenma could try to change.

He could try to game less, if that’s what it was about. Or maybe he should have been more attune to Akaashi’s needs, the way Akaashi was with him. Regardless of the reason, Kenma would apologize, and then everything would be okay.

He didn’t know what Akaashi’s favorite dessert was (and the thought made him wince) but they’d shared apple pie often enough to know Akaashi liked it. So he found a bakery, bought a little pie, and waited. As soon as Akaashi came through the door, everything would be better.

But he didn’t.

The time for dinner passed, and Akaashi didn’t come home. Then the bookstore closed, and still the door didn’t open.

When it passed 3 am, Kenma knew Akaashi wouldn’t be coming back that night at all. He stood up, legs stiff from sitting cross-legged in his chair. He put the pie on Akaashi’s desk.

Only one tear escaped, and he wiped it away quickly. He tried not to think of the possibilities, where Akaashi could be, whom he might be with. He realized, as he fell asleep in his own cold bed, that this was the first night since college started that he was completely alone.

  
  


The room was still empty when he woke up. Sunlight streamed through the window, a break from the recent cloudy days; Kenma could tell it was earlier than he normally woke up, and mourned the lack of sleep.

There was no breakfast on his desk. Not that he expected it, after all this, but it still kind of hurt. Heaving a sigh, he pulled back his comforter. He picked up his sleep shirt and sniffed the shoulder. It wasn’t good.  _ Maybe I should actually shower today _ .

The hot water felt really, really good. It felt like it was not only washing the actual grime off his body but cleansing his mind instead; it had definitely been a good idea. Especially since Kuroo would have bullied him into doing it later, anyway.

He walked down the hallway back to his room, toweling his hair so it didn’t drip onto his fresh shirt. It took him a second to unlock and open the door, hands full as they were, but when he did he almost shut it again in surprise.

Not that he should have been surprised to see his roommate in his own room, it was just... _ Doesn’t he have class right now? _

Akaashi was lying on his bed, head hanging off the side. His long throat was stretched back and the sunlight from the window cast dark shadows along his jaw and neck.  _ Gods, he’s so pretty.  _ Kenma swallowed.

Kenma only had a second to appreciate the view before Akaashi turned his head to the door, eyes widening at the sight of Kenma standing there by the door.  _ This is it _ .

“I’m sorry.”

Akaashi’s mouth was open, ready to speak, and he looked surprised that Kenma had done it first.

“Um, what?” Akaashi asked, sitting up and dropping off the bed to stand.

“I’m sorry for whatever I did,” Kenma said, and had to keep his voice from breaking. His eyes were already threatening to tear up, and that was so not how he wanted this to go.  _ Don’t cry, _ he tried commanding himself, and it almost worked.

Akaashi didn’t say anything, eyebrows still furrowed in shock, so Kenma continued. “I don’t know what I did. I don’t know if it’s my personality, or my habits, or what, but you could have just told me. You didn’t have to leave,” and there, his voice cracked, and he stopped talking.

Akaashi still didn’t say anything, but he walked forward quickly--faster, possibly, than Kenma had ever seen him move--and folded Kenma into a hug.

Kenma took a second. It was usually him, reaching out for affection. Akaashi rarely started it-- _ well, I guess he had gotten a lot more comfortable, before this all happened _ . Akaashi was warm. Kenma could feel him breathing, shallowly.

He felt Akaashi duck his head to nuzzle Kenma a little, and Kenma finally wrapped his arms around Akaash in return. It felt good, of course it did, but Kenma didn’t really know what was going on. Did Akaashi forgive him? As much as he loved physical affection--and he did, a lot--this was one situation Kenma actually needed to talk about.

He was opening his mouth, ready to pull away, when Akaashi spoke. “You didn’t do anything,” he said. Kenma could feel his voice echoing through his chest, feel Akaashi’s jaw move on his head with the movements. Now he was confused.  _ If I didn’t do anything, why’d you leave? _ He wanted to say, but he didn’t trust his voice not to break.

Part of him just wanted to forget it; Akaashi was here, it wouldn’t take much for Kenma to lean up and kiss him. He could kiss him, run his fingers through his hair how he liked, sink to his knees maybe, or fuck him. But he didn’t want to ignore whatever happened. He never wanted it to happen again, and that meant dealing with it.  _ Oh, joy _ . Talking suddenly seemed less appealing now that he’d thought of the other--dirtier--things they could be doing.  _ Focus, Kenma _ .

Akaashi pulled back from Kenma and broke eye contact, choosing to look at his feet, the desk, the window, instead of Kenma’s face. “You told Kuroo we weren’t dating.”

Kenma made a face, ready to explain, but Akaashi cut him off. “Let me finish, then you can say whatever you want,” he said, gently. “You told Kuroo we weren’t dating, and I spent a whole week thinking about what you meant. We never talked about it, I know, and labels can be dumb, but they can also be really helpful.”

Akaashi took a deep breath, then continued. “I really, really like you, Kenma.” Akaashi’s eyes finally flicked back up to Kenma’s. They were sincere, and maybe a little bit watery. “I liked what we were doing, and I liked every moment we spent together, so when you said that, I jumped to conclusions. I thought that you didn’t feel the same.” Akaashi’s hands were starting to fidget, now.

“I didn’t want to ruin whatever we had, but it  _ hurt _ , and I was trying to deal with it. I thought the best way would be to take some time, then come back when I felt better.

“But Kuroo told me I’ve been an idiot, and I agree. I should have just asked you, I don’t know why I didn’t. I was scared, I think. Hearing you say the words would have been more painful than the slow death I was giving us. I had no idea you were hurting too. I’m so sorry that I made you think it was your fault. It wasn’t. You could never, I never meant--” Akaashi’s voice broke, then, and he smoothed his hair out of his face, looking impossibly regretful.

Kenma wanted to be mad, and he was for a second. This whole time, he’d thought he’d done something wrong. He’d warred with his emotions, finally settling on guilt, because he figured the only thing that could have pushed Akaashi away so abruptly was him.

But then he thought about it more. Akaashi was right; they’d never talked about their relationship, about what they were and what they wanted. Kenma had thought it was obvious--did Akaashi think Kenma would do all this with just anyone? He knew he was very physically affectionate with Kuroo, and to an extent, even Bokuto. But what he and Akaashi shared went far beyond that.

He thought about Akaashi, trying to protect himself from his own feelings. Akaashi, pulling away when all he really wanted was to hold Kenma closer. He looked over at where Akaashi was now sitting, head hung low and watching Kenma process everything. He looked sad, and regretful, but also a little hopeful.

Kenma had to clarify. “But you still, you know...want to? Be with me?” Kenma asked, and he could feel his heart beginning to heal its own bruises. Akaashi nodded, and it wasn’t a slight thing, his head bobbing quickly.

“Yes. Please, if you still want me,” Akaashi said, voice raspy.

That was enough talking for Kenma. They could figure out the details later, he thought, because now his singular mission was kissing Akaashi until he couldn’t breathe and then riding him until Kenma couldn’t, either.

Akaashi almost fell out of his chair from the force with which Kenma tackled him. Kenma’s arms were around his neck, his hips between Akaashi’s spread legs, and he kissed Akaashi so hard their teeth clacked.

Akaashi slowed him down, pulling his head back a little, and cradling Kenma’s jaw between his hands. His kisses were reverent, soft and adoring. Kenma ignored the wetness in his own eyes--they were tears of relief, anyway,-- and broke off the kiss to hug Akaashi again, face tucked into the side of his neck.

“I missed you,” Akaashi said, barely loud enough for Kenma to catch.

“Me too,” Kenma said, pulling back and kissing him again. It occurred to him that he could kiss Akaashi whenever he wanted, now. He’d never take that for granted again.They had at least two weeks to make up for, and Kenma wasn’t slacking.

An hour and a half later, he still hadn’t gotten his fill of kisses. They’d pulled their mouths apart, some time after Kenma pushed Akaashi back onto the mattress, throwing his own head back and rolling his hips, but before Akaashi got impatient and flipped them over.

Lying on the bed together after, though, Kenma remembered his mission to satisfy his eternal urge to kiss Akaashi as much as he could get away with. His thighs were so sore he could barely walk, his whole body was still tingling under his skin, and his sweaty chest was pressed against Akaashi’s--and still, he crawled up Akaashi’s body, from where he’d been catching his breath, to trace kisses along his jaw.

Akaashi gave a pleased hum and tilted his head down, capturing Kenma’s lips for what must have been the thousandth time in the last two hours, and Kenma thought it was nice to be on the same page again after all that heartache.

Akaashi would keep apologizing, Kenma knew, for as long as he felt guilty--which may very well be forever--but Kenma had already forgiven him. He’d made a dumb decision, sure, but Kenma couldn’t fault him for his insecurities. Especially when their combined lack of communication was what really damaged them.

And so, even if Akaashi kept apologizing long after he had to, Kenma would just remind him--again and again, forever--how loved he was. With words, this time, too.

**\---**

When Akaashi woke up that afternoon, it took him a couple minutes to orient himself. He was in his own bed, and the light coming through the window indicated it was well past noon. Kenma was wrapped in his arm, looking for all the world like he belonged there. And he did, Akaashi remembered, smiling.

Skipping his classes had been worth it, as much as it had stressed him out to make that decision. His relationship with Kenma was more important than his classes, and the time apart had allowed him to get ahead on the school work--he wasn’t worried.

Their make up had gone better than he’d ever hoped. For one, Kenma hadn’t even seemed mad. Akaashi wouldn’t have blamed him if he had been, but Kenma seemed to understand. More than anything, it seemed like Kenma was just grateful to have figured it out, finally. That made two of them.

It was warm in the bed, but not oppressively so. The air was cooler, and the space between him and Kenma was toasty. Akaashi was on his back, Kenma curled into his side, halfway on top of Akaashi’s chest, leg thrown over his.

Akaashi pulled Kenma closer using the arm that was wrapped under him, and nuzzled into his neck. He was so, so happy.

With a jolt, Akaashi suddenly remembered the food he’d brought. It had been apology food, of course. He went to the little bakery down the road and picked up apple pie, as well as some breakfast pastries. Maybe they could still eat them, later.

Kenma stirred beside him, making the cutest sleepy noise in the world.  _ I am so lucky, to have this, to be with him _ . Even though Kenma had drooled on him, just a little. Even that was endearing, Akaashi was surprised to note.

Kenma opened his eyes slowly and the expression on his face after he rolled farther on top of Akaashi and leaned close for a kiss made Akaashi’s heart flutter. He tightened his arms around Kenma, sliding his hands down to his waist and encouraging the kiss. It was the best good morning kiss he could remember, and it wasn’t even morning.

There was only one thing bothering him, still. They’d talked, finally, and it was good. Kenma understood, and had forgiven Akaashi--not that he’d forgiven himself, quite yet-- and Akaashi couldn’t be happier.

That being said, though-- “So,” Akaashi said, then cleared his throat, wondering why his normally self-assured and direct nature turned to awkward shyness when he was with Kenma, “we like each other. A lot.” He glanced down to gauge Kenma’s reaction. He was staring intently, encouraging Akaashi to continue.

“Are we dating?” There, he said it. He fought down the urge to somehow hide his face. Akaashi could fuck (or get fucked by) Kenma a hundred ways without getting this shy; it was irritating how the little stuff got him so twisted up.

Kenma gave a considering hum. “Do you want to?” He didn’t look opposed to the idea, but it was kind of hard to tell.

“Yes.” He didn’t know how to be more clear than that. And it was more than just dating; he wanted to be Kenma’s person, the same way Kenma was his.

“Then, okay. We’re dating.” Kenma’s lips lifted in a soft smirk and Akaashi suddenly felt caught in a trap, like he’d been led here by Kenma’s own design. He didn’t mind.

“I don’t really care about labels; it’s not about that,” Akaashi clarified. It was true; it wasn’t the label he wanted. He wanted the confirmation of their feelings, the seriousness they both felt.

Kenma seemed to understand, if the soft “I know,” he said before he leaned down to kiss Akaashi again could be trusted.

They stayed in bed for a while, after that. Akaashi eventually got up and presented his food gifts to Kenma, enjoying the way his eyes lit up and his grin got wide enough to show his teeth. Kenma showed Akaashi the apple pie he’d bought, too, and they had a little laugh that sounded a bit like crying. They ate it all together, in bed, and Akaashi had to forcibly ignore his concerns about crumbs and ants because it was the cutest shit ever, watching Kenma’s eyes close every time he took a bite.

By the time Bokuto and Kuroo came banging on their door demanding dinner, the two had spent more than enough time catching up. They’d kissed more times than they could count, had sex again (Akaashi privately considered it “making love”), and enjoyed the simple comfort of cuddling.

“DINNERRRRRR!” Came the demand from the other side of their rattling door. They’d texted the other two earlier, saying things were fixed and they wanted to do group dinner again. If the rambunctious summoning were indicative of anything, it was that Kuroo and Bokuto were thrilled to be able to be rowdy around them again instead of trying to navigate the turbulent emotional waters.

They had used the half hour between texting their friends and their arrival to shower and get ready. Kenma barely had any clothes, having neglected his laundry while he moped. (Akaashi apologized again, and Kenma headbutted him). Kenma ended up borrowing one of Akaashi’s skirts, which made, uh, made it uh, very hard for Akaashi to focus--and Kenma seemed to know it, sending him a pleased smirk when Akaashi was unable to pull his eyes away from where the skirt ended and Kenma’s thighs began. Then, Akaashi wove Kenma’s hair into a little braid, using the clips he’d gotten him to keep two strands near the front in place. It all felt terribly domestic, and Akaashi loved every second of it.

Akaashi opened their door, coming face to face with Kuroo. He had the urge to duck his head, prepared for Kuroo’s anger again, but the man looked...proud? He reached out to ruffle Akaashi’s hair, rather roughly, and--okay, maybe he was still the tiniest bit pissed. Akaashi didn’t blame him, but Kenma did, if the way he elbowed Kuroo in the ribs (“Oof, Kenma, what the fuck”) on his way past proved anything.

“So...you guys are good now?” Bokuto asked, ever tactless, once they’d gotten their dinner and sat down.

“Yep,” Kenma replied, a challenge in his eyes, before Akaashi had a chance to.

“Kenma just had to use his words, since Akaashi can’t pick up on clues for shit,” Kuroo snickered. Akaashi glared at him, ready to defend himself, but Bokuto spoke first.

“HEY HEY HEY, speaking of that, I was so pissed when Kuroo told me! I thought maybe your mom was sick, or you were failing your classes, or something horrible had happened. But this whole time, I could have ended all this,” Bokuto waved around at them, “by telling you Kenma loved you back? Are you kidding?! I could have fixed this so fast.” Bokuto looked more riled up by the end of his mini rant, hands in the air, and it was making Akaashi feel bad.  _ I know, I was being dumb, okay? _ he wanted to say, but figured it was clear enough.

“Nah, he wouldn’t have believed you, babe, it’s okay.” Kuroo was right, actually. It would have had to come from Kenma himself. Akaashi shook his head lightly, trying to banish his depressing thoughts in favor of focusing on Kenma’s hand in his as they sat side by side, finally reunited with their friends after two long weeks of self-imposed woe.

Kenma squeezed his hand, silently reassuring, and Akaashi decided he’d endure all the teasing in the world as long as he had Kenma on his side. He internally grimaced after realizing how cheesy that was.  _ Cheesy, but true. _

  
  


A couple nights later, Akaashi was resting on their bed. He was still catching his breath, enjoying the post-coital drowsiness, when Kenma slipped off the bed to take a shower. Akaashi drifted between sleep and wakefulness, listening to Kenma wander about the room getting dressed and prepared for his stream.

Akaashi was still trying to accept that they were a couple now, but hearing Kenma rustle around below made it feel all the more real. His breath was just starting to slow as he fell asleep again, Kenma’s soft voice filtering through the air, when Kenma said something that made him perk up a little.

“Yeah, it’s all better now,” Kenma said, sounding happy. “Thanks for checking in, guys.” Kenma was silent for a few moments before saying, “Mhm. No, yeah, he’s right here actually.”

Akaashi bolted upright just in time to see Kenma grab his monitor and swivel it, turning the camera to face Akaashi. Akaashi, who was on their bed still, shirtless--no, scratch that,  _ completely naked _ beneath the comforter that he hastily pulled up to his waist before realizing the camera angle probably couldn’t see below his chest anyway--and was speechless for a few moments, before gritting a warning “Kenma,” between his teeth.

Kenma snickered, and hesitated a few moments before pulling his monitor back to where it had been previously, hiding Akaashi again. “Hehe yeah,” Kenma giggled into his headset. “I know, right?” Kenma shot an appreciative glance over to where Akaashi was still sitting straight up in bed, wondering what he’d done to deserve such a cruel surprise.

“Don’t worry, they think you’re hot, babe,” Kenma said, giggle turning into a louder laugh at Akaashi’s horrified face. Akaashi wasn’t really bothered; he was more surprised than anything, that Kenma felt comfortable telling all of his viewers about them. The joy at Kenma’s comfort telling the world about them almost overshadowed how incredibly embarrassing it had been to find himself a shirtless guest star on Kenma’s channel. Almost.

By the time Kenma woke Akaashi up by crawling into bed--wearing Akaashi’s shirt, and nothing else--after his stream and wiggling his way into Akaashi’s arms, Akaashi had already forgiven him. Being the hot boyfriend of his gamer roommate wasn’t so bad, after all.

_ Yeah, _ Akaashi thought, as he fell asleep again with Kenma beside him this time,  _ He’d have to do a lot worse than that to scare me off.  _ And Akaashi didn’t plan on leaving his side any time soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is technically the end of the story, but there's an epilogue that I'll post soon.
> 
> And I'm working on a bokuakakuroken sequel!


	6. Kuroo and Bokuto find a video

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End :3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, guys, this is it! This teensy little epilogue wraps up this story. Thank you so much to everyone who has commented and kudosed, you guys made this extra fun to write and really made me feel like there were people out there interacting with my brain. So thank you guys so so much :)
> 
> I'll be writing little sequels (bokuakakuroken mostly, probably) so keep an eye out for those if you want. <3

Kuroo was the one that found the video. “Bo, bro, babe, dude, look what I found,” Kuroo said from the desk under the bed Bokuto was napping on. Kuroo stood up to pop his head up beside Bokuto and bopped their foreheads together.

“Ooh, is it another egg video?!” Bokuto replied, slipping off the bed and directly onto Kuroo, who had to drop the laptop on the couch behind him so he could grip Bokuto and prevent them from falling.

“Aww, I was gonna come up,” Kuroo whined, setting Bokuto on the bed couch, “But this works too.” He sat down close enough that they were touching shoulder to knee, and pulled the laptop from behind him to balance on their knees. “Check this shit out,” Kuroo said, laughing still.

The youtube video was titled “10 minutes of Kenma being hopelessly in love with his roommate” and Bokuto was already chuckling, starting to realize what the video was going to be. Sure enough, when Kuroo pressed play, they were greeted with Kenma’s face in the corner of a minecraft stream.

On-screen Kenma turned his head to glance at something out of the frame, then turned back to blush at his camera. “Hang on, guys, my roommate just got back.” Kenma pulled his headset off and turned to talk to somebody else. Bokuto knew it was Akaashi, but the interesting part was watching Kenma’s blush spread from his cheeks to his ears to his neck.

“God, Akaashi is so oblivious if this is what Kenma looked like every time they talked!” Bokuto was laughing for real now. When Kenma turned back to the camera, he had a wistful smile on his face.

The screen cut to a new clip. This time, Kenma was chatting into the camera when Akaashi strolled into the background dressed only in a towel. Bokuto swallowed. Had his best friend always?--  _ Yeah, shit sometimes I forget how built he is _ . Bokuto snuck a glance at Kuroo only to see him softly bite his lip, practically drooling at the sight. Bokuto elbowed him, but when they made eye contact it was clear they’d been thinking the same thing.

On screen, they got to watch Kenma visibly gulp before very slowly tracing his eyes from Akaashi’s face to his neck, chest, abs, then finally rest on the top of the towel. Kenma turned back to the screen, eyes incredibly wide. He sent a betrayed look to his crotch before clearing his throat and resuming his stream. This time, Kenma’s blush didn’t leave for a solid five minutes.

The next couple minutes of video were just a compilation of Kenma wearing different oversized sweatshirts--oversized enough that they  _ clearly didn’t belong to him _ . The video answered the unasked question moments later, switching between grainy background photos of Akaashi wearing the sweatshirt and clips of Kenma wearing the same one. Kenma didn’t seem to be aware of his habit of tucking his chin into the wide neck of the sweatshirts and smelling them. Bokuto couldn’t decide if he thought it was weird or cute.  _ Maybe both? _

Kuroo was losing it over the sight of just how many sweatshirts Kenma seemed to have stolen, especially when it got to the one with Akaashi’s name embroidered on it that Bokuto distinctly remembers Akaashi mentioning that he “couldn’t find for the life of him.”

Then, the screen changed again to show Kenma showing off his latest minecraft portrait. “It’s Akaashi,” he said, quietly, as if perhaps Akaashi had been in the room and he didn’t want him to know. Bokuto shared a glance with Kuroo--apparently Kenma talked about Akaashi enough to mention him by name in his stream and have everybody know whom he meant.

The next part started with Kenma saying, “Akaashi’s a light sleeper, I want to make sure I’m not keeping him up.” And then turning around every couple minutes to check on him. Whoever uploaded the video edited it so it was just approximately sixty examples in quick succession of Kenma twisting his head around to check on his sleeping roommate, to the beat of Hollaback Girl.

The final clip showed Kenma looking happier, perhaps, than he ever had. Especially since Bokuto knew how bad he had looked for those few weeks. He and Kuroo watched Kenma pan the camera to where Akaashi had very obviously been taking a post-coital nap and laughed so hard they cried at the emotions on his face flickering between outrage, embarrassment, and amusement.

Later, when they were going to sleep (after they’d emailed the video to every one of their high school volleyball teammates), Bokuto said, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Akaashi get as flustered as he does with Kenma.” Besides himself, of course.

He means it in a positive way, means that he loves that they’re in love, that he’s happy for them, that he’s so glad his best friend found somebody (else) who makes him light up. Kuroo seems to get it, even though Bokuto’s words had stopped too soon.

“They’re really good together, huh,” Kuroo replied. Bokuto turned his face to bury his smile in Kuroo’s neck.  _ They really are. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Ems, who said, "what egg video," umm.. guess we'll never know. Except maybe a little bit in my brain I was thinking about the asmr video called "your uterus finds out you're a lesbian" or something to that extent.

**Author's Note:**

> ALSO  
> The entire reason I started shipping these two together is because of the incredible!! "Of Monsters and Men" by shions_heart, so I'll link that.


End file.
